


Lifeline

by ezyds



Category: Castlevania Lords of Shadow と 宿命の魔鏡 | Castlevania: Lords of Shadow & Mirror of Fate
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Comic, Family Bonding, Fanart, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Humor, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 60,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezyds/pseuds/ezyds
Summary: Spared from the threat of annihilation, the city struggled to rebuild itself. However, the infection was not the only enemy that lurked in wait.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

He regretted agreeing to this.

Ever since he adopted the moniker ‘Prince of Darkness’, nothing could really shake him anymore. The title was borne of his limitless rage and power; his enemies quaked at the mere mention of his name for they knew how volatile his wrath was. The lifetimes of knowledge he possessed sharpened his mind into a weapon as deadly as his combat prowess, if not more. Mindless monsters, no matter how powerful, could never reach a repute so horrifying. And the Dragon was _terrifying_. His incredible ability to adapt was proven when it took him mere hours upon waking to sort the fog in his mind and took out the plague that was Satan himself. Marie had always said his sharp mind was one of his most admirable agencies; his talents and battle instincts were ruthlessly articulate that he was once known to be one of the best warriors ever known to man.

But now it seemed that there were slivers of cracks on his solid wall of fortitude. Cracks in the form of humanity. It had been centuries since he was anywhere near humans that didn't involve violence and death. He was the Bringer of Chaos, the enemy of mankind, and ironically, the guardian of the mortal realm. It stung to serve the very cause that set the course of his damned fate again, but he was glad to finally exact his revenge upon the catalysts of his misery.

What was left of the city's population milled about in the underground terrain just a few metres below his feet, blissfully oblivious of his presence or his true nature. Occasionally some would pass by his perch and glanced at the Dragon before shuffling away, their hushed murmurs droned endlessly around him. He ignored them and continued to scan his surroundings, letting the noises drown to the back of his mind.

His crimson eyes swept over the tall ceiling above, mindlessly cataloguing the dilapidated structure of the deep cavern in an attempt to distract his steadily unsettling thoughts. Being underground never bothered him—half of his castle extended deep beneath the ground and he spent _centuries_ navigating through said sections without issue—but it was difficult to give a name to the dull pressure in his chest other than apprehension. Shifting his weight as subtle as he could—it wouldn’t be characteristic for _him_ to appear troubled—Dracul raked through memories of his hundreds of years of existence to recall if he ever experienced being so uncomfortably out of his skin. He suspected the cavern was part of the original castle structure—cracked, stone flooring still visible beneath the dirt and an old, crumbling statue of a serpent in the corner being the biggest clues—though he couldn't tell what room it used to be. A millenia flew by and remains of the castle were still rooted to the cursed ground.

_'You belong with us.'_

Dracul half-expected blood to start oozing through the cracks of dusty masonry, pooling by his feet, whispering and hissing their venomous seduction to pull him back into its prison...

Refusing to entertain his imagination, Dracul turned his head to find a familiar figure in the distance. His shoulders relaxed at the sight of a blue coat—striking and vibrant even in the gloom.

Alucard had insisted on a change of wardrobe before they ventured into the human hideout. Their standard battle garments were too...conspicuous. He refrained from mentioning Victor’s garbs were no more ridiculous than their usual ensemble in terms of appearance and allowed his son to shove the new, fairly-bland set of clothes on him. He didn’t even contest with the fact that he could just will his own change of clothes, putting more focus on the way the woven, soft fabrics felt against his skin instead of his usual worn leather.

Dracul pretended not to notice the curious glint in his son’s eyes when he didn't raise any objection about the charade. The Dragon was not one to elude the truth where it mattered—he never hid _what_ he was, valuing truth over deceit—so his willing assent to the idea of _camouflage_ would logically raise questions—questions that Alucard curiously decided not to ask.

To complete the ensemble Alucard gave him an enchanted ring; a glamour to mask their true nature from the unassuming populace. The younger vampire wore a similar ring under his kid-skin glove, donning the appearance of a dark haired youth to fool the unawares. It took Dracul all his willpower to stamp down the pain he felt, seeing _that_ man again _—so full of life_ —that he chose to see through the glamour.

Illuminated by the myriad of flame torches fitted throughout the common area, Alucard’s unnaturally white hair appeared like liquid gold, lessening the severity of his pale complexion. A more time-wise design of rich blue coat hung on his shoulders and ended a few inches above the steel-tipped ankle-high boots he wore. A simple three piece of shirt, vest, and slacks completed the ensemble. Aside from the striking color of his coat and vest, the rest of his garments were black. Subdued and practical. Alucard had been talking to a group of humans ever since they stepped inside the shelter. Humans and a vampire, engaged in a civil conversation.

It was a bizarre sight.

Alucard had told him of his—for the lack of a better word—`arrangements’ with a select group of human warriors. While his son shared his displeasure with the Brotherhood of Light, that didn’t stop the younger vampire from making allies of the rest of the population. As it turned out not all humans were in agreement with how the Brotherhood of Light operated. A few groups of mercenaries sprouted from the division, though he knew all too well that every dogma always came tacked with its own hypocrisy. Dracul pressed his lips thin the first time Alucard revealed this to him, an unease coiled in his gut at his son’s choice of companions. For as long as he could remember, humanity didn’t take kindly to vampires, more so those directly related to _him_ ; the Prince of Darkness. Dracul didn’t care about what humans think of him, but his son built his virtues around humanity, and his instinct as a parent refused to see harm come to his only child. Dracul knew his standing in his son’s life was still on feeble grounds so he decided he would respect and support Alucard’s choices, regardless how opposed he personally felt about them.

At the very least, he could take comfort in knowing that his son was a better judge of character than he was.

Finding nothing else to do, Dracul settled on observing the group intently for any sign of hostility from his shadowed perch. Alucard had offered him to join them but he honestly couldn’t be bothered to deal with the general human population—no matter how accommodating they claimed to be—so he remained where he was, resting the majority of his weight against a block of crumbled pillar while rubbing the pads of his fingers unconsciously on the smooth texture of his red, gabardine coat. After centuries of wearing armour and battle gears, the soft fabrics left him feeling naked. The process of putting on the modern garments was quite the learning experience; it took no mere guidance from the younger vampire before he finally managed to dress up. Dracul had a niggling feeling that Alucard was enjoying his discomfort more than he let on.

“Father?”

Dracul tilted his head to the side to see Alucard marching towards him; his steps now graceful and assured unlike how cautious they used to be, when he had no way to gauge the Dragon’s volatile temperament. But Dracul's weariness had dulled the edges of his fury, which seemed to ease the tightness in Alucard’s jaw—his hand no longer itched to grasp at the hilt of an invisible sword so often now—and the Dragon curiously noted the way his son carried himself was no different than his; with predator-like confidence. He wondered if it was from their shared combat training or it was a trait they acquired after becoming creatures of the night. His attention swept a little to the left at a red-headed man trailing behind his son and his shoulders tensed with caution, barely noticing the way the reaction was mirrored in Alucard’s.

“My apologies for the wait,” the younger vampire’s tone betrayed no grief, instead, the formality of long-ingrained manners coated his words, “I didn’t expect the discussion to last as long.” Golden pupils darted over the vast cavern where the majority of uninfected humans were converged in for shelter. Alucard was always amazed by humanity's resilience in survival. In the span of two weeks, they had erected tents and temporary facilities to sustain the growing community. Some of the men he talked to had dispersed to attend to the scattered population, likely to offer support and relief in these trying times. “The infection is still spreading despite us having destroyed the research laboratories. If we don’t find a way to curb it, this city and the neighbouring areas will soon be taken over by the infected.”

“The disease is airborne, it’s no surprise that it will eventually seep into the soil and water of this land.” Dracul ignored the frown on his son’s face at his lackluster response in favour of glaring at the young man behind Alucard. He took note of each trait he could distinguish on first impression. Haphazard ruddy hair, mildly-tanned skin with a lanky form that held more muscle than fat, and nearly a head shorter than the vampire lord himself; the boy appeared to be barely into adulthood but had bright, green eyes that held the wisdom of one twice his years. Perhaps he had, if the jut of a long rifle behind him was of any indication. “So if these people wish to survive, they should leave the city.”

The redhead gave him a lopsided smirk, accentuating an attitude that vampire lord had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate, “Not really subtle with the ‘get off ma porch’ vibe, ain't ya?” His voice sounded young; confirming Dracul's earlier impression. His speech pattern gave hints of an easygoing nature and a tinge of an accent that he could vaguely surmise originated from the northern part of the land.

 _If_ that part of land still existed. He still had yet to ask his son about this new, foreign world.

“Clancy, not now.” Alucard looked like he was fighting an oncoming headache. “Father, this is Clancy Reid, a good ally and friend who has helped me in recent years.”

The gangly boy—Dracul belatedly wondered what service could this human possibly offer to Alucard’s cause because he looked so _young and unassuming_ —in turn, jabbed his thumb at the silver-haired vampire as if to answer the question plaguing the Dragon’s mind. “Trevor saved my great great grand da. Been a family friend since.”

“Yes,” Alucard conceded distractedly— _omitting details_ , Dracul noticed—as he nodded towards the older vampire, eyes swiping over the former before settling pointedly at the redhead; a silent warning, “And this is my father, Gabriel Belmont.”

The young man appraised the vampire lord with a hint of awe in his unblinking, green eyes. “So this is the famed Prince of Darkness? You’re...shorter than I thought you’d be.”

Ever since his wake Dracul noticed the lack of fear in the eyes of those who found themselves face to face with the infamous Dragon. Was it the glamour? He wore the guise of his former human self, albeit a little aged with gray streaking his thick brown hair. No, even as a human he still looked fairly intimidating, with his bulk in stature and the permanently pensive mood that seemed to hang over his brows. Perhaps the gravity of his title no longer registered the effect it usually did in the past.

_Mankind forgets, they always do._

Dracul wanted to ask what prompted his son to trust this boy so much that he would willingly reveal their true identities, but he resorted to respond with just a quirk of an eyebrow. “Oh?” He pretended not to notice Alucard shooting him a stern look in his peripherals.

 _[I know what you're thinking. Don't start.]_ He resisted the urge to snort when his son’s warning entered his mind.

_[Am I to accept such remark from a ‘Clancy Reid’?]_

_[Please behave. He’s an old friend.]_

He pursed his lips stubbornly at the stern look Alucard pinned on him. _[Your old friend has an unfortunate name.]_

 _[_ **_Father._ ** _]_

“I mean no disrespect. I heard stories of you since I was a little kid, and even knowing a direct descendant,” the young man nodded at Alucard, seemingly unaware or deliberately ignoring the withering scowl the vampire shot at his sire, “...it's still a little overwhelming to think I'd finally get to meet the legend himself. Trevor has been telling us a lot about you.”

“If your credence of my reputation is of any testament, then he hasn't been telling enough.” Ignoring the ‘us’ bit—of _course_ his son had more than one ally—Dracul responded nigh icily as he turned to regard Alucard’s critical eyes. “Is there a reason for this?” While he no longer seeked to punish mankind for the injustice he suffered on their behalf, it did not mean he was becoming invested in their welfare. His son knew the wound of betrayal in his heart would never mend—he might be mollified on occasions but few could permanently sway his conviction—so he wondered the other's reason to integrate him into this alliance.

Surprisingly, something akin to embarrassment bled through Alucard’s stoic countenance. “Actually, there is...” He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly under his father’s burning gaze, “I was hoping that you would help us.” Before Dracul could react, he quickly added, “I’m aware I've asked this of you once, so I will not hold it against you if you refuse another request.”

Dracul blinked as memories of his son asking him to join arms in saving humanity nearly five centuries ago resurfaced. Back then they both knew only he had the power to defeat Satan, so the reason for desperation was understandable. Now with Satan out of the picture, his son's reason for including him into the fray was...

Curious.

Dracul narrowed his eyes critically at the request. Alucard was never indecisive. The only reason for it could only lay in the external element. “Whatever the humans ask of you, refuse.”

Alucard looked surprised. “Father—”

“They are not your responsibility,” Dracul pressed on, “I once took on such a grand task, thinking it was my duty to serve a noble cause.” He chuckled bitterly, “Nothing good came of it.”

Something flickered in Alucard's face at the implication but before he could speak, Clancy held up his hands. “Wait a sec. I get that we're the last people you want to work with but you're not our pick either.” He gave the vampire lord a calculating look before explaining, “We’d rather not have you involved but your son insisted we enlist your help. With the surface still polluted, we can't move freely without protective equipment; something we only have a limited supply of.”

“I don't see how it's any of my concern.” Dracul sniffed in disinterest. How could they come to the decision to include him without consulting him beforehand? “I have better things to do than running your errands, _boy_.”

Clancy's eye twitched at the tone. “ _Boy_?”

“Father—” Alucard began to say but Clancy beat him to it. The redhead stepped up towards the vampire lord with a stance that managed to look intimidating despite his own smaller stature.

“At least the stories were true about one thing,” he ground out, “You're a crotchety pain in the—”

“ ** _Clancy_**.” Alucard directed his stare at the redhead now. The boy wilted at the reprimand as his face reddened in embarrassment.

“I uh...sorry. Sorry.” The redhead directed the second apology to the vampire lord, who looked unimpressed by his brazen bravado. Drawing a deep breath to recompose himself, he began again, “I get that you've basically saved the world from destruction— _twice_ —so you owe us nothing. However Trevor insisted we at least ask, because we're losing men and we need all the help we can get.”

Dracul raised a critical eyebrow at the human. “You've asked and you're correct. Neither my son nor I owe you anything.” He smirked when the boy's face fell before scrunching up in annoyance.

“Gentlemen,” Alucard cut in quickly, putting a stop to the budding tension. “If both of you are done bickering like petulant children, I would like to discuss our options. Time is of the essence.” Dracul felt something heavy in his chest from the way his son looked at him.

_Disappointment._

Marie would have been proud to know their son perfectly inherited that look from her.

He sighed and allowed his menacing posture to drop, nodding his head at the younger vampire in a show of compliance. “What is the plan?”

“Clancy is an expert in gathering intel.” Alucard cut through whatever the redhead was about to say; his voice was calm unbefitting his displeased glare at the two. “It was thanks to his help I managed to remain two steps ahead of Zobek’s scouts. I asked him to keep an eye on things while we deal with...more pressing matters.” Dracul saw his eye twitched at the implication but didn’t interrupt. Smoothening the wrinkles off his waistcoat in an unconscious habit, Alucard continued, “Yesterday his scouts went to check on a camp when all manner of contact with them had ceased since three days ago.” His frown deepened, “Instead of refugees, a cluster of newly infected humans roamed the deserted encampment. They were— _seemed to be_ —refugees of that camp. I wish to investigate what happened and rescue the survivors, if any is left."

Dracul opened his mouth, intending to say no one was likely to survive so it would be a waste of time, instead what came out was, “What of the Brotherhood’s men assigned to the settlement?” It might have been centuries since he left the Order but he knew well how they operated. Parading themselves as paragons of virtue, the Brotherhood would undoubtedly assume control over the unguarded populace, believing themselves to be humanity's last stand against total annihilation.

“It would be wise to assume they have perished as well at this point.” Alucard's face twisted into a pained grimace. “There isn't much of the Brotherhood left to begin with. The new contingent fights evil with sermons and prayers. Victor was one of the last few Paladins who had remained faithful to the old ways.” There was regret in his eyes, whether for the needless death or for the weakened conviction, Dracul couldn't tell. “Without him, the Order is lost.”

It was strange to hear the organization that had been the proprietor of his misery—that he bitterly sought to destroy for _centuries_ —had finally collapsed. The knowledge didn't fill the vampire lord with gratification as he had hoped. Instead, he was disappointed. Not once did the Brotherhood try to do right by him—not like it would salve his deep wounds—but he had hoped to get something akin to justice; if not for him then for his wife and son, who were sacrificed to bolster his call of destiny. The Brotherhood couldn't even give them that.

“What of the antidote?” Dismissing his internal turmoil on the matter, Dracul recalled the vial of antidote he had supplied. “Is it not effective?”

Clancy was the one who answered, “It is, but it isn't enough to stave off the infection. Duplicating it ourselves will take time we don't have because the infection spreads fast. They really did a good job at making it difficult to deal with.” The man let out a snort of disgust. “We need to either find more antidotes to keep up with the infection rate or find a way to neutralise the contagion itself.”

Alucard nodded in agreement. “Bioquimek has warehouses dotted all over the city. They could be storing antidotes there. Clancy and his men had scouted them for the cure.”

“There's seven of them that we found.” Clancy anxiously shifted his weight between his feet as he took over the explanation, “We've raided four of them and found basic medical supplies but no antidote.”

“Then they perhaps keep the antidotes on the other sites.” Dracul noticed the hesitation. “What of the last three?”

“They’re located at the heart of the infection. Not counting the walls of monsters we need to plow through, the air is too contaminated for humans to enter.”

“The biggest warehouse is to the east of here,” Alucard announced as he tugged at his gloves, flexing his fingers until he was satisfied with how they fit around his fingers. “We can investigate it before we check the camp.”

“...Fine.”

Alucard and Clancy looked at him in a way that brought an unsettling thought of how uncannily similar they looked. Dracul made a point to probe later if he had any other ‘less-glorified’ surviving descendents. He inwardly cringed at the thought of the redhead being related.

“ _‘Fine’_?” Alucard tested despite the fact that he had no problem hearing his father the first time.

“I’ll check the warehouse,” Dracul reiterated, scrunching his nose at the hint of a smile on his son’s lips. It was ridiculous how _pleased_ his son could be when he agreed to something as banal as helping humans. He had a feeling Alucard would go without him regardless of his decision, and he didn’t trust the humans enough to leave his son amongst them. “Just lead the way.”

The task was vaguely reminiscent of when he had to step through the portal to save humanity. A doomed crusade of a broken man seeking death; but _He_ graced him with everything but.

* * *

“You’re quiet.”

Dracul threw a brief glance over his shoulder to see Alucard trailing a few steps behind him while Clancy was lagging much further to talk to a group of armed men. The humans were wary of both vampires—of _him_ more than his son in specific—prompting him to wonder just how large the circle of allies did Alucard manage to keep throughout the years. He pretended to not notice how they scurried to give him a wide berth when they saw him approaching, allowing himself the brief comfort in the familiarity of awe and terror in their trailing gazes. Dracul concerned himself with scanning the area; he spied a few more men were scattered all over the higher buildings—surveillance, he deduced. He would give them credit for efficiency, at least.

The Dragon stopped to stand by the edge of the roof to appraise the warehouse a few blocks below. With the full moon hanging in the night sky, it was easy for even the human eyes to make out the details of the structure. The building was fairly large in size that he could see at least four metal shutters on one side—all bearing the company logo—while the entrance was blocked by a messy pile of metal containers and turned-over vehicles. A few trucks with the same logo were parked nearby; they seemed intact for the most part. They could be ideal for transporting supplies if all manner of monsters and creatures didn’t swarm the area, blocking all possible entrances and exits to the building. He had a suspicion that something must have enticed the horde to the spot. The air was rife with poison when he could already smell the corruption where he stood. The only unrestricted way into the warehouse he could see would be through the windows above near the roof.

“So are you,” the vampire lord allowed his attention to slide towards his son, who had come to stand beside him. “Do you not need to discuss the plan with the others?”

Alucard shook his head, “Clancy has that covered.” A slight pause. “You’re not pleased.”

“No, I'm not, but my stance matters little.” Dracul returned to observe the movements below closely; no matter the creature, there was always a pattern to them. With his power alone he could easily blaze through the horde, but to avoid collateral damage and guarantee the safety of their ‘allies’ should the battle get out of hand, his next move demanded a bit more planning. Fortunately, his reputed combat prowess was nothing if not paired with his tactical mind. He was already calculating his course of actions before gloved fingers loosely curled around his right elbow, vying for his attention yet again.

“Your stance matters to _me_ ,” Alucard intoned with a depth of conviction in his voice as golden eyes bore into his ruby ones. “While I’m glad you’re willing to aid these men, I don’t want you to feel like you're obligated to.”

His forehead creased in confusion for a short moment before he understood his son’s worry. Alucard definitely took his remark about blind duty to heart. In some way, it warmed him to think that his son cared enough to heed his caution. “My obligation lies not with them.” At Alucard's questioning look, he explained, “ _You_ asked for my help, how could I refuse?”

It seemed to throw the younger vampire off-guard as it took him longer to respond. “You'll do this, despite your own sentiment, just because I ask?”

“You are my son. I may not share your views but I can choose to honour them.” Dracul shifted his weight between his feet, using the opportunity to study the way his son’s forehead creased in bewilderment before adding another point to his argument, “Moreso, you’ll throw yourself into danger regardless of my decision. At least with me being here I can ensure your safety.”

Alucard scoffed at the obvious jab at his obstinance but his eyes softened all the same, “I’ve managed well on my own for centuries, Father. Furthermore, we're among friends; I've fought alongside these men and their predecessors. They are good men.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Dracul tilted his head to find a familiar redhead a few distance away. He didn’t doubt his son’s vouch for the men’s contributions but he found it hard to believe _humans_ would be willing to aid his son—by proxy, _him_ —without devious ulterior motives when the Dragon was the one who declared war upon humanity. He honed his rage for centuries; the Prince of Darkness carved a fearsome reputation that even those of Zobek and Satan's calibre didn't dare challenge him head on while he was at the peak of his power. It took Alucard's involvement to tip a millennia of stalemate, so he learnt to appreciate his son's talent in forming ingenious plans. Dracul had never considered those five centuries of his deep slumber but perhaps one day he would ask Alucard to fill him in on his lonely crusade. “Past experiences show that regardless of your intent, you always do what is right. I trust your judgement.”

Alucard stared at him in disbelief. “Why do you trust me so? Have you forgotten that I tried to claim your life— _twice_?”

Dracul let out a soft snort, “So you keep reminding me.” His grin softened into a smile that made Alucard feel that he was looking at the gentle face of Gabriel Belmont. “I gave you the Vampire Killer because I have confidence you will do what is needed to be done, when the time comes.”

“That, you did.” Golden eyes softened as the fingers around his elbow slid down his wrist to rub against the naked back of his hand, reminding Dracul that he was still in his borrowed clothes. “You trust so readily, Father, that I'm uncertain if I’m deserving of such faith.”

“It’s a parent’s duty to believe in their children.” Dracul patted the gloved hand on his arm. He savoured the contact for a moment before releasing his grip, letting Alucard pull away. “I would imagine you putting faith in _me_ is an even higher stake.”

Alucard had to chuckle at that, reaching out to brush an invisible lint from the other’s shoulder before fixing the lapels as if to accentuate his coming phrase, “Mayhaps, but seeing how I managed to persuade you to dress up, my gamble has been successful.”

Dracul’s face morphed into an almost indignant look. What's wrong with his choice of wardrobe? “Since you still wear the armour I made for you after so many centuries, I cannot see any reason for your complaints over my taste in garments.”

Mirth danced in his golden eyes as Alucard leaned back and let out a soft, thoughtful hum, “Ah, so there it is; the limit of your trust. Your chosen regalia for me has been practical and I dare admit I grew fond of the design, but your extravagant taste is rather excessive for this era, Father.”

Dracul narrowed his eyes in a half-hearted glare before shaking his head with a muttered laugh. “You insufferable child. Let’s do this before you decide to impart your exhilarating wisdom on today’s fashion.” He pulled the glamour ring off his finger and tucked it underneath his belt as his clothes melted into his battle gear. Dracul could hear startled gasps from behind him when he leapt into the gathering of monsters in a flourish of blood and smoke, twisting the air around him into a vacuum as his blood sifted through the contaminated gas along his path. Once the air had cleared, the vampire lord materialised and rammed against the largest beast perched on an overturned truck, sending it crashing down on its lesser, smaller brethrens. The brief confusion that followed was enough for Dracul to claw his way through a few rows of the infected before they noticed his presence in their midst. A cacophony of ravenous howling ensued as the horde stumbled over themselves to attack the vampire lord.

“Come,” Dracul taunted, twisting on his heels as he danced out of their reach, luring the horde away from the warehouse. The commotion seemed to attract stragglers from the surrounding area, doubling the number of the congregated monsters. Undeterred, the vampire lord summoned the Void Sword into his hand and slammed the icy blade upon the tarmac, freezing the ground and air with such extreme cold that sharp icicles formed along the sword’s path, impaling and freezing the wave of monsters in a thick wall of ice that spanned at least twenty feet. He watched dispassionately at the creatures trapped within the icicle, flailing frantically to get free before the cold silenced them. Dracul twirled the sword in his hand in wait for the incoming mob to close the distance before a blur of blue and silver cut across the horde with lightning speed, felling rows of them before he felt presence by his side.

“You nullified the poison,” Alucard breathed out, not bothering to hide his astonishment. “I didn't know you could do that.”

Dracul gave a nonchalant shrug, “My blood is corrosive, it can dissolve even flesh and bones. It’s fair to deduce I can ‘nullify’ the disease by consuming it, but we still need the antidote to purify the land.”

“Lest you resolve to devour dirt?” Dracul narrowed his eyes at the unabashed grin his son was sporting, although the revelation that Alucard felt comfortable enough to make teasing jabs at him never failed to spark warmth throughout his body.

“ _Hilarious_.” He threw sharp icicles at those that tried to leap over the wall before cutting down those that succeeded. “Your allies should be able to traverse the area without the risk of infection now.”

“We should clear their path then,” Alucard said over the snarls of monsters coming their way, swinging Crissaegrim in wide arches, decapitating heads and body parts as he worked through the horde. Grunting in agreement, Dracul joined him in the fray, driving his sword through those foolish enough to draw near. He whipped his head up at hearing a loud crack and a sharp whizz in the air just to see a creature’s head explode into pieces. The smell of iron and gunpowder drew his eyes instantly to the glint of red on top of one of the buildings before another deafening crack tore through the air, this time it hit the creature a few feet close to where the vampire lord was, giving him the full view of an exploding ribcage. Before the echo of gunshot fully ended, more joined in, raining high velocity projectiles down the helpless swarm. Bits of flesh, organs, and bones scattered on the blood-soaked tarmac that it was hard to see which part was which.

“That’s our cue!” Alucard called out amidst the thunderous roar of gunfire. He leapt over the horde and landed on the narrow metal walkway where the rows of windows were. “The snipers will take over from here. Father, let's go!”

Finishing off a grotesque infected with a swift slash, Dracul threw down another icicle wall for good measure before following his son's path into the building.

After making sure there were no enemies waiting to ambush them inside the warehouse, they stealthily made their way down from the roof. Despite the particularly bright night, the windows were so high above that barely any light filtered through the dark warehouse. It didn't bother both vampires however since they could see just as well in no light. It turned out that part of the warehouse was divided and sectioned into smaller rooms—work and storage areas, _respectively_ —catered to different production of materials. Aside from some records of the company’s research, their search yielded no antidote but Alucard found some useful apparatus he suggested they bring back. Dracul studied the signs and construction of each section before he stopped by an unassuming metal door. The lock had been broken and as he pulled it open, he saw a narrow staircase that led to a pitch-black basement. He could sense something ominous was down there.

“Find anything?” Dracul turned his head to see his son approaching his location. Alucard’s eyebrow quirked in question at his silence when he stepped aside instead of answering. He could see the frown creasing Alucard's forehead as the younger vampire stared down the dark basement, appearing to share his uneasiness. Before Alucard could advance further, he stepped in to block the other’s path, rousing a look of mild confusion and annoyance on the younger vampire’s face.

“There could be antidotes down there.”

“There could be,” Dracul agreed, turning to glare into the dark depth and then at his son. “Still, I go first.” As he turned to descend the stairs, he glimpsed Alucard rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath that even his sensitive hearing couldn’t pick up. He had a hunch that his son was annoyed at his protective streak yet it strangely brought a small smile to his own lips. After weeks of fighting side by side, they had become comfortable enough in each other’s presence that made working together near seamless. When they weren't fighting, light banters came just as easily. He would never forget the way Alucard’s eyes widened in shock when he laughed heartily at a particularly amusing, mistranslated text in the city records. The sudden burst of joy took Dracul by surprise as well that it momentarily filled him with confusion. It dawned on him then that for once in his long existence, he no longer felt the heavy weight of loneliness on his soul. He was so used to be left to his own thoughts that it was common for him to give into his bitterness. His son's constant presence was like a soothing balm that kept his dark moods at bay.

Dracul had long accepted it was his fate to live his cursed existence in seclusion, so the prospect of having companionship once again seemed like a novelty; so precious that the idea of losing Alucard became one of the main scenarios in his nightmares. He was one with many enemies, and Dracul knew he would never forgive himself if he failed to protect the only family he had left. He already lost his mind to grief once when Marie was ripped away from him, he couldn't bear to be subjected through such debilitating sorrow again. If his son sensed the change in his mood, he mercifully said nothing of it and allowed the Dragon to coddle him despite his own annoyance of the treatment.

Dracul stopped at the bottom of the stairs when he reached the basement level, listening for any sound of movement in the shadows. There were even more crates and equipment in the basement. He could hear heartbeats scattered around the room—erratic, _human_ —but when minutes passed with no attempt of an attack, he frowned. “I know you’re in here. Come out.”

“Bloody hell...you’re human?” choked a gruff voice from the back of the room, thick with relief. Dracul could hear echoes of the same reaction from around the room, hidden behind the mountain of crates. From the shuffle of silhouettes he could see, there were at least thirty abled-bodies holed inside the basement. He felt Alucard touched his shoulder.

“What is—”

Dracul turned mid-sentence, expecting to find his son, instead he saw the youthful visage of Trevor Belmont looking at him. He was quick to hide any reaction from showing on his face at the sight, although his cold heart clenched with such a strong emotion he was sure it was tearing itself apart in his chest. Despite having seen his son’s glamour before, those warm, blue eyes— _Marie’s eyes_ —always found their way through the cracks in his armour of indifference. How could he be so blind to her eyes when the young warrior first came to him that night?

 _Because in hatred, those eyes were as cold as his_.

Alucard ducked his head to murmur next to his ear so as to not alarm the group, “They will respond better to humans so it'll be wise to cloak our appearance as such for now. You should put on your glamour while I talk to them.” He tilted his head curiously, noting the odd expression on the older vampire’s face. “...Father?”

When he noticed Alucard's questioning look at his prolonged silence, Dracul did everything in his power to tear his eyes away from his son’s gaze. They reminded him of his sins—his _regrets_. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dracul gave a slight nod as he moved to step back, the guilt churning in his chest robbed him of the strength to speak.

* * *

The sudden mood change he sensed from his sire puzzled him but Alucard pushed it aside in favour of the task at hand. He stepped forward, providing his father cover to slip on his glamour while he addressed the group. “Are you from camp Cove?”

“We are.”

Without warning, bright, white light awashed the room. Alucard squinted his eyes from the sudden brightness before he could make out eight men— _trained warriors_ —stood with their weapons drawn in the open. He instinctively turned to look at his father, who thankfully already had his glamour in place. Dracul's face was oddly blank despite how telling _what_ the men were.

_Remnants of the Brotherhood of Light._

Alucard averted his attention from the weary faces peeking curiously from behind the crates when one of the men—most likely the leader—stepped up to him with a half-laugh twinkling in his brown eyes. He was average in build, looked to be middle-aged with short, salt and pepper hair on his head. “I almost shot you, son. Never thought anything could pass through those damn monsters.” He eyed Alucard curiously before shouldering his weapon and offering his hand. “The name's Paul.”

“Trevor,” Alucard provided, shaking the man's offered hand while eyeing the hefty shotgun resting over the man's shoulder. It was an impressive weapon and he could tell it was laden with enchantments; a staple attribute for weapons used against the unholy. Stepping aside, Alucard inclined his head at the quiet Dragon behind him. “My father, Gabriel.”

Paul smiled brightly as he looked between the two, the tension easing further from his shoulders. “Pleased to meet you both. We’ve been stuck in this place for nearly three days.”

Making another quick sweep around the room, Alucard could detect no infected amongst them. Odd, considering how thick the infection hung in the air outside. “We thought we'd lost you. You were supposed to join camp Victory three days ago. How are you here?”

Paul’s face fell. “We were ambushed on our way to the camp. A few of us were injured following the attack, making it difficult to move quickly. The hell beasts hunted us down like they knew where we were headed so we had to find refuge here. We're the only ones that remain,” he said, motioning towards the rest of his group, who cautiously came out of hiding. “Before we realised it, the disease worsened and the horde swarmed the area, making escape impossible. Luckily there are supplies to get by so we planned to wait them out.” A curious look fleeted across his face. “How did you two manage to pass through the swarm and gas without protective gear?”

Alucard cast a knowing glance at his father before answering, “The air has cleared enough that there’s no need for one at the moment and the horde has thinned down in numbers.” They weren't exactly lies and his voice hardly gave any reason for doubt as he spoke. “We're here in search of the antidote for the disease. I'm afraid it's starting to spread in the main camp.”

“We found three boxes worth of those in the cold storage,” one of the men at the back offered helpfully.

Finding both the lost group and antidotes made the trip worth it. Alucard could feel some of the anticipation left his shoulders. “That's more than we could hope for. We should head back to camp while it's still safe to travel.”

“Safe? It’s a fucking chaos outside.”

A tall, hulking man made his way towards the two. Alucard could feel hostility oozing from the way the man carried himself. Dark, green eyes bore on him as the man asked, “Who are you? Strutting in here like you own the god-damned place. You think you know better than the Brotherhood of Light?”

“Richard,” Paul warned.

“We don't even know if they can be trusted, Paul.” Richard glared at Alucard's elaborate suit with disdain, “Here you are, playing saviour as if you're better than us. You mercenaries think you're tough shit now just because the damn Belmont is dead—”

“Richard, _enough!”_ Paul barked sharply, jaws set with barely-contained anger as he turned to face the other man. “We do _not_ speak ill of those we lost. Victor was our brother and you will show him the respect he deserved.” Despite being a head shorter than Richard, he held a commanding air of authority that made the taller man appear small. “And the Brotherhood of Light fights for the good of the people. You will do well to treat our allies with proper decorum in this time of need. Save that aggression for our enemies. Do I make myself clear?”

Richard snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, countering his superior’s smoldering glower with a defiant glare before promptly stomping away in grudging silence. The younger vampire arched a dark eyebrow at the exchange, but before he could comment on it, Paul beat him to it.

“I apologise for his behavior. Being cooped up here doesn’t do our morale any favour,” he said in earnest, shoulders slumping with weariness.

Alucard nodded, “I understand.”

“Regardless, I must admit there's truth in Richard’s point. It’s easy for two people to slip past the horde but they will certainly notice a group as large as ours.” Paul motioned towards the back. “The children and the elderlies especially can't move quick enough.”

“I thought the Brotherhood of Light is supposed to be fearless elites in the arts of combat.” Alucard turned to find his father had come to stand beside him, an annoyed frown plastered on his face. He was surprised Dracul didn't jump on Richard's throat the instant the man spoke of Victor. Regardless of Victor's role in the Brotherhood, he had a good head on his shoulders and his heart was in the right place. The man had earned even the Dragon’s respect, and to have his repute spoken with such malice stung with injustice.

“Yet here you are, cowering like rats, hiding your incompetence behind the weak,” spat the Dragon, clear distaste darkened his face. “Our allies are outside, clearing the horde as we speak.” Dracul glared at the group, his eyes narrowing on Richard before turning to address Paul with steel in his voice, “So if you're all done whimpering like cowards, I suggest you gather your wits and leave _._ ”

Alucard could only gape as he watched his sire stalked off towards the stairs. He turned to Paul, a feeling akin to embarrassment crept into his face. “Please excuse my father. He is...not in the best of mood.”

Paul smiled in understanding, “It’s fine, Trevor. I admire his bluntness, and he's right. We can't stay here. Let me get my men and we'll meet you upstairs once we’ve gathered all the supplies.”

Alucard nodded and left the group to prepare. Climbing out of the brightly-lit basement, he was once again greeted by the dark warehouse. He scanned the area for his father before sensing the other near the loading bay. Making his way towards the location, he found the Dragon standing on one of the platforms, seemingly so deep in thought that he considered announcing himself. He remembered the odd look on his father's face moments before and wondered if it was appropriate to address the issue since they were alone.

“Are they coming?”

He paused briefly, trying to gauge the other’s mood from the clipped tone. “They are gathering the supplies to bring along.” He took note on how his father avoided looking at him; he always did so whenever he was trying to rein in his emotions. While Alucard was no stranger to the Dragon's lapses of fury, his father was more hesitant to show his rage now. He could only chalk it up to the older vampire not wanting to strain their relationship.

“Good.” Without turning, Dracul motioned towards the closed shutter doors. “I was thinking we could make use of those vehicles outside to transport them.”

Alucard blinked, not prepared of such a neutral reaction after the hostility the other previously showed. “That is sound. I will suggest it to them. The sooner they reach the camp with the antidotes, the better.” _The less we need to deal with the Brotherhood._ The sounds of gunfire outside had lessened and sounded distant; the snipers had lured the horde far from the warehouse. It would buy them the time needed to make their escape.

“Stay vigilant.”

Alucard was taken off-guard by the sudden warning that it took him a while to respond. “Father?”

Dracul finally turned to look at him, the dark frown on his face eased a little yet his tone still held an edge to it. “Those Brotherhood knights— _if_ they could be called as such—cannot be trusted.”

“Because they are of the Brotherhood?”

“Because they are men of rotten conviction,” ground out the older vampire, ancient scorn coated his words. “No matter how helpful you are to their cause, they will not hesitate to stab you in the back if they see it fit their agenda.”

“I know.” His father wasn't the only one to experience the Brotherhood's betrayal. He was used to the brand of animosity from men of the Brotherhood— _especially_ from men like Richard—so forming an alliance with the Brotherhood of Light wasn't something he would have considered. “I only seek to help the common folks. The innocent should not suffer our dispute.”

Dracul's tone was so sharp they cut, “Then they should have fled the city.”

Alucard let out a frustrated groan because the Dragon was hiding behind his cold mask again. He knew his father's temper would flare up whenever the Brotherhood was involved. “Father, they can't leave because the city is on lockdown due to this poison. They've little food and no shelter; they're barely surviving as it is.” When his father didn't appear fazed at his reason, he deflated with a weary sigh. “I don't like them as much as you do, Father. Trust me, the sooner we can clear this plague, the less we need to be involved with any of them.” The older vampire seemed appeased by his admission, the harshness in his eyes dimming to their usual gentle glow.

“What will you do?” For once Dracul sounded small; the apprehension in his voice reminded Alucard of a child waiting for a parent’s return. “Once it's all over... Will you leave?”

He never imagined the Dragon to fear _anything. No, it's not fear—_ his heart clenched when he could finally place the expression— _it's hope_. His father had gone through most of his unnatural existence alone, and he of all people understood the loneliness of such life. After the last few weeks in the company of his sire—enjoying the rare comfort and safety provided by the other’s presence—Alucard found it difficult to imagine returning to his old life of solitude either.

“I don't know.” Spending immortality alone when he had a goal to work towards had kept him occupied enough from considering the matter in earnest. The younger vampire paused to mull over his answer. “There’s no foreseeable end to night creatures for me to consider the possibility of doing anything besides hunting. And with this city acting as a beacon that attracts every creature of darkness, it may never be fully rid of them.” He looked at the windows above where he could see stars scattered over the night sky. “Though, I would love to travel, to discover the wonders of the world.”

Dracul looked away, his voice a soft whisper, “I see.”

Seeing his father's dejected countenance, Alucard closed their distance. “Come with me, Father. The castle held you here once but no longer. You're free.”

Dracul gave him a wistful smile, as if he was looking at something that he could never have. “I'm the Lord of Shadow, the Prince of Darkness, the cursed Dragon that strikes fear in every soul. There will always be chaos wherever I go.” He curled back, as if his very being would corrupt everything he came into contact with. “You will never taste peace with me by your side.”

“But I have, Father,” Alucard pushed stubbornly, waving his arms by his side. “For centuries I spent my whole life looking over my shoulders. These few weeks I felt more at peace than I ever did in a long time.”

“I bring ruin to those closest to me,” Dracul insisted, exasperation colouring his tone at his son's refusal to back down. “I’ve many enemies, Son. They will hurt you to get to me.”

Alucard arched an eyebrow, “So have I. Who's to say you won't stumble upon _my_ enemies?”

“Trevor—”

“Father, I may not possess a well of limitless power as you do but I can hold my own in combat,” Alucard cut in, his hand found his father's sleeve cuff, carefully tugging the rich crimson material between his fingers until he could grasp the other's hand within his own. He found that gentle touches helped keep the Dragon grounded; Dracul was more susceptible to suggestions when he was calm. “We’re Belmonts, the life of battles is in our blood.” He squeezed the battle-worn hand as if to accentuate his point. “You’ve carried this curse alone long enough, Father, it's time for you to live.”

“To live,” the older vampire echoed in a hoarse whisper, “I don't know how... I don't know if I can, Son.”

“You can,” Alucard's confidence was unwavering. “You have me.”

He could see something unfamiliar glimmered in those ruby eyes as Dracul considered a response but decided against it; the vampire lord knew his son's stubborn streak could very well match his own.

“As you wish,” Dracul finally relented, weak and docile from the reassurance. He let out a small sound of annoyance when he picked a loose thread from his jacket. “However, I retain the right to choose my own garments.”

Alucard laughed, feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders lifted. “That can be arranged.”

* * *

“They're coming out!”

Clancy was fishing into his pouch for ammunition when he heard the shout over the deafening gunshots around him. Poking his head over the barricade of concrete and steel to peer at the warehouse, he expected to find the two vampires emerge from the building. He was surprised to see a small stream of civilians hurried out of the open shutters, filing into the three trucks left parked in the lot. With his rifle freshly reloaded Clancy settled back into his position and observed the activity through his scope. He saw the familiar red and blue trailing behind the group, observing the evacuation.

“Looks like they found survivors.”

“What now, Chief?”

Even from his high vantage point Clancy could make out the brief exchange between Alucard and one of the drivers. They had done plenty of rescues before that he could make a guess about what was being discussed. “They’ll be heading back to the camp. The trucks are going to attract attention.” The two vampires seemed to think the same as they lingered behind after all of the survivors were safely inside the vehicles. The redhead watched the headlights of the trucks blinked on as they started to inch towards the chain link gate. As predicted, the loud hum of engines distracted the nearby swarm from the snipers just as the first truck pealed out of the parking lot before the gates were even fully opened. The element of surprise allowed it to plow through their numbers, providing clear paths for the other two to follow suit.

“Cover the trucks!”

Thankfully they had thinned the horde enough in the last twenty minutes that the trucks could pass through the compound with little to no resistance. With the air cleared of poison gas, the infected were like a herd without its shepherd; disorganized and scattered aimlessly amongst their rotting brethrens. Some tried to chase after the escaping vehicles, only to meet their demise at the hands of the vampires and sharpshooters. Clancy watched the trucks sped off into the main road before turning towards one of his men.

“Lars, take six men and tail the trucks. Make sure they reach the camp safe. Keep your comm open.”

“Okay, Chief.”

Watching the escort squad leave to follow the trucks, the redhead turned to address the rest of the crew. “Alright, men! Let's put these poor bastards out of their misery!”

The snipers carefully picked off the few stragglers still trying to give chase to the retreating trucks while the bulk of the horde doubled back to swarm the two vampires. Clancy shot at an infected creeping on an overturned car behind the two vampires as it made a leap to attack, cursing loudly when he just managed to shatter its left knee, only for Alucard to spin around and lopped its head clean off mid-air. Golden eyes darted to find his on top of the building and Clancy cringed in apology.

“Right, enhanced hearing. Forgot about that,” he mumbled to himself before the buildings shook with an unnatural tremor, causing everyone to pause in confusion. Clancy panned his scope around to see if those on the ground felt it. The horde simultaneously stopped their attacks and seemed uneasy of the development. Alucard stood beside his father, nodding at something the older vampire said while they cautiously scanned the area. The tremors grew stronger and more constant—like a chorus of hearts pulsing underneath the concrete—sending the infected creatures into a state of panic that some resolved to abandon the area. The redhead had never seen them show fear even against foes much stronger than them, so their reaction to the phenomenon sent a heavy, foreboding feeling in his gut. The pulsing got so loud that it sounded like a crack of thunder under their feet; it was so jarring as if a dull hammer was being driven into the side of his head before it abruptly stopped.

Without warning, the ground in front of the warehouse erupted with a deafening explosion, taking half of the warehouse with it. Dracul and Alucard got out of the blast radius in the nick of time as the ground collapsed into a crater wide enough to fit a small airplane. Thick gas poured from the crater, turning the cold night air hot and sour.

“Gas!” Clancy shouted, pulling his mask from under his scarf as he did so. “Masks on and fall back!” With barely working protective gears, he knew they had no other option but to flee their posts or risk being trapped by the gas and get infected. Leaving their vampire allies behind left a bad taste in his mouth even though Clancy knew the two were more than capable to fend for themselves. He at least took refuge in the fact that the blast took out a large portion of the remaining horde while the rest turned to flee. They didn't get very far when a beastly wail erupted from the ruptured pavement and the ground shook as something big and ghastly emerged from its depths.

“What is that _thing_?”

The redhead knew he wasn't the only one who couldn't tear their eyes from the giant abomination. It seemed to be some kind of an animal but had been grossly mutated that it barely retained its original form. Covered in oily brown fur, it stood well over a two storey building on its four legs. Despite its size, the creature was fast. It caught some of the fleeing infected between its massive jaw, their terrified shrieks were cut short when sharp teeth gnashed them down into mush. The beast devoured all the infected it could capture; some were even swallowed whole. He could see them still moved as they passed down its throat, struggling in vain without hopes of escaping. The smell of rotten flesh and tainted blood was so overpowering that Clancy vaguely heard choked, gagging sounds from behind him. His men were ones of the few who barely batted an eye at the sight of horrors but seeing such monstrosity was too much. If he wasn't too mortified to tear his eyes away from the sight, the redhead knew he would be losing his dinner as well.

“It's...it’s looking at us.”

Clancy felt the coldness of dread clenched around his chest when the beast's toxic green eyes met his. He had a feeling that it was searching for its next meal. Before the creature could take a step forward, a car smashed against the side of its head, causing it to lose balance and stumble to the side. Surprised by the attack, it whirled around to find its assailant.

Next to a pile of abandoned vehicles stood Dracul with the most smug smirk on his lips. The strange sight gave the beast a cause for pause before it snarled threateningly at the vampire. The Dragon stood his ground— _undaunted_ —even as the giant abomination lumbered over. It almost reached the vampire lord when a sharp whistle made the creature turn around.

“Over here, beast!”

The creature howled in pain as the side of its left hind leg was torn open. Clancy let out the breath he was holding when he saw a shape of blue and silver near the creature's side. Alucard jumped away before it could swipe at him, angling Crissaegrim over his shoulder to swat at another attack before he brought it down on the creature's unguarded back. The attack did considerably less damage to its thick hide but the beast was already severely slowed down by the wound on its leg, preventing it from reaching for the agile vampire. Dracul made a move to join the fight but something Alucard said over the angry howls of the monster made him stop. The older vampire graciously conceded, retreating to a safe distance away to watch the fight.

Alucard's expert swordsmanship made dispatching rabid creatures seem almost effortless. He used his speed to evade the creature's deadly swipes, forcing it to double its efforts. The monster couldn't come any closer than ten feet without the pale-haired vampire vanishing from its grasp and having another wound carved into its flesh. Angered, the creature reared its head back in an unnatural angle before lurching forward, spitting a stretch of noxious green liquid at Alucard. It missed its mark but the surfaces the liquid came into contact with sizzled and melted instantly.

“Great. Knew that thing is bad news.”

Clancy forgot he wasn't the only audience to the battle. His remaining crew had gathered by his perch, each watching Alucard's display of skill with keen interest. They all had seen him fight many times before to know how the battle would end but that didn't mean they would pass the opportunity to watch their vampire ally in combat.

"Alucard can take it on no problem."

“I’m interested to see how his dad fights.”

“Did you see his sword? I've never seen anyone do that, not even Alucard."

“I heard people used to call him the Prince of Darkness. Guy had a terrifying reputation. Wonder if he can be trusted.”

“What do you think, Chief?”

Clancy couldn’t fault his men for thinking so. They had the same opinion when they first found out about Alucard’s true nature but the vampire's virtues easily won their trust and loyalty over the years. Had Clancy not grown up under the tutelage of said vampire, the redhead wouldn't be so quick to put his faith in their immortal allies either. He trained his eyes on the red-clad vampire, sifting through his feelings since their first encounter. Dracul had his reservations just as the rest of them, and he knew the only common ground they had was Alucard's vote of confidence.

“We judge people by actions, not stories. Alucard trusts him," he looked at his men. "And I trust his judgement.”

* * *

“Be wary, Son. It reeks of poison.”

It wasn't difficult to see why his father was worried. The sense of corruption Alucard felt from the creature was beyond what he had felt from the horde. This abomination carried the plague in its veins. While he and his sire were invulnerable to the infection, the same couldn't be said about the general population. Who knew how many of such creatures existed? They needed to eradicate the source of corruption as soon as possible.

“I’ll be fine.” Alucard flashed the older vampire a smirk. “Will you object if I take on this beast alone?”

Dracul pressed his lips thin at the question, shooting the creature a thoughtful frown. “I won't, but be warned that I will not remain idle if it harms you.”

He snorted at the predictable compromise. “Since when did the fearless Dragon become such a mother hen?”

"Since my child's sense of self-preservation is worse than his immortal father's." It seemed his father had been long prepared for the jab. Perhaps he had been a little giving with their banters.

"The old always fault the youth for their passion." With his eyes trained on the rampaging creature, Alucard threw a parting jab over his shoulder, “Careful, Father. I fear your age is showing.” He allowed himself a soft laugh at the distinctly indignant sputter behind him as he leapt at the creature. If the Dragon was adamant about coddling him, his sire would have to deal with being called out on it.

True to his words, Dracul remained on the sidelines as Alucard hacked away at the beast. Despite the unshakeable prickling on the back of his neck from sharp eyes being constantly on him, his father knew he could manage his own; their past encounters were perfect testaments to that. Alucard had a thousand years to mature as a vampire, and the blood that coursed through his veins bore the trademark of Dracul's own well of power. Perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched to assume he was only second to his father in terms of power and skill.

"Are you not tired of getting up?" Alucard watched the creature wobble back up, blood dripping from the deep gash along its right rib. He had been meticulous in keeping the beast within the small clearing while preventing it from going after the group of men on the other building. He could tell the creature was beginning to anger; it surged towards him in an attempt to use its mass to its advantage. Its rage-filled attacks were haphazard and easy to avoid, but he knew the power behind them could be damaging if he allowed one to connect.

The beast roared in frustration when its attacks failed to land on Alucard. Said vampire danced just out of the beast's reach, carving Crissaegrim deep into its flesh until the ground was gradually soaked with black, pungent blood. The stench was so overpowering— _so steeped in corruption_ —that there was little doubt the creature's biological makings were tied to the infection. The creature ripped and flung a large chunk of broken tarmac at Alucard, which the vampire used as a leverage to jump over the beast's head. It gave a terrible roar when Crissaegrim cut deep across its face and took its left eye out. Blinded by its own blood, it flailed around, ramming into vehicles and buildings in its pained rage.

 _Shit._ Alucard realised he landed a little too close to the beast. He had no allusion on who would fare better in a fight of pure strength. He had no choice but to block its attacks before he could gain more distance. A thick arm came from his left and he braced Crissaegrim with gritted teeth. The impact sent a sudden jolt of pain lancing up his arms, almost knocking Crissaegrim out of his grip. Alucard vaguely felt the ground beneath his feet disappear as he flew into the side of a nearby truck. Compared to the meaty smack, the collision against the truck's metal body felt significantly less jarring. He felt the thin metal bent when his body made contact with it, leaving an impressive dent that would have shattered his spine were he a normal man.

“ _Alucard!_ ”

He couldn't tell who called his name when a deep growl in front of him made him stiffen as a familiar cold shiver crawled into his chest. Pushing himself off the wreckage, all he saw was a wall of red.

And flames.

Dracul stood tall between him and the creature, back towards him, his father's arms burned far too bright in the darkness of night. The beast roared at the older vampire for denying its prey and lunged at him, which Dracul effortlessly countered with a quick punch to the side of its jaw, snapping the creature's head to the side.

"You _dare_?!"

Alucard felt a familiar chill washed over his core at the fury layering his father's deep growl. Dracul was _furious._ His father's wrath was a dangerous thing. When the Dragon's temper rose, death and lasting agony were sure to follow. It was reminiscent of the intense hatred—all-consuming and _dark_ —he had only witnessed when his father faced Zobek and Satan. Dracul was barely at his full strength when he defeated his arch nemesis but now that he possessed the full capacity of his power, Alucard feared no force in this realm could challenge the Prince of Darkness.

A pained howl snapped Alucard out of his thoughts just in time to see Dracul pushing the creature back with perfectly timed blocks and punches. The creature sounded almost confused at how easily the vampire lord deflected its attacks. It tried to use its superior bulk against the Dragon but the Chaos Claws were Dracul's might manifested into corporeal existence. Each of its attacks were met with Dracul's countering fists and damage began to show on the creature's body. Alucard would have thought of his father toying with his kill but seeing how deliberate of a show it was, he realised it was a warning. Alucard turned his sight over the building where the snipers were and sure enough they were stunned by the one-sided battle. Another angry roar brought his attention back to the fight. The beast was barely holding itself up; burnt wounds littered its thick hide. Learning that physical attacks were useless against its stronger opponent, the beast resolved to spit out a thick stream of acid at the vampire lord. Dracul slammed his fists into the ground, calling forth rings of fire to form a shield around him, instantly burning off the noxious fluid upon contact.

Before the beast had the chance to launch its next assault, Dracul dashed under its ribs and threw a devastating punch at its unprotected side. The sickening sound of shattering bones preceded the creature's battered body slamming down the cracked concrete. Alucard almost pitied the beast when it whined in pain, scrambling to gather itself and cowering like a scared, wounded animal at the sight of the Dragon approaching, realising instead of the predator it believed itself to be, it was actually the prey.

"Only agonizing death befits those who dare harm what's mine," Dracul growled, his red eyes flashing as his gauntlets burned brighter. He smashed his burning fists into the tarmac, setting the ground ablaze, forming a ring of fire around the beast before the creature was engulfed in a pillar of flame. Even from the distance, Alucard could feel the heat warming his skin and curling his hair. The roar of fire didn't drown the beast's terrible scream as it suffered a slow, agonizing death of being burnt alive. When the screams finally died out, the sound of sizzling flesh and crackling of dry bones filled its place. By the time the flame was reduced to glowing red embers, black soot was all that was left of the creature on the scorched gravel.

"Son?"

Alucard instinctively tensed when a gentle weight rested on his shoulder and the look on Dracul's face when he jerked away instantly made him flush with regret.

Dracul looked at his hand and realisation flitted in his eyes before his face crumpled with guilt and worry. "Are you injured? Did I...hurt you?"

The gentleness behind those questions starkly belied the rage Alucard bore witness in the vampire lord mere seconds before. "I'm...alright." He swallowed the lump in his throat as he willed his muscles to relax. "A few bruises and shallow scrapes are nothing to worry about, they're already healed." Alucard paused in thought. "And no, you didn't hurt me, Father. I just didn't expect... _that,"_ he motioned towards the scorched ground as he stored Crissaegrim away. "I could've handled it."

"It was not that I doubt your ability, Son," Dracul conceded with a slightly regretful wince. "But when it hit you, I couldn't just watch and do nothing."

Alucard pressed his lips into a thin smile. The genuine concern in his father's voice made him feel foolish and ashamed for even entertaining the idea that the Dragon would harm him. Were he in his father's place, he would have reacted the same way if he saw his own offspring in danger. "Thank you, Father."

Dracul looked slightly taken aback at the quick forgiveness. "You need not thank me."

"I do," Alucard tilted his head at their allies as the crew finally began to leave the sniper's nest, "And for agreeing to help my companions, although they're probably scared out of their wits of you now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drew [a scene](http://bit.ly/DHoS2) from this chapter some time ago though it's slightly altered to fit a more general context.


	2. Chapter 2

When they reached the camp, Clancy was relieved to see his men and the trucks had arrived safely. The escort team met with them by the cave entrance for the debrief.

"Things went smoothly. The newcomers are settling in and we've transferred the supplies to the infirmary."

Clancy was pleased by the report. "Thanks for your hard work. _"_ He looked at the tired faces around him, feeling the same weight of exhaustion dragging down on his bones. _"All of you_. You all did good today. Now go get some rest and enjoy your day." He watched his crew milled around for their break before he spied two, distinct shapes in the shadowed corner by the entrance. The two seemed to be engaged in a deep discussion that he was hesitant to intrude. He only deemed it safe to approach when Alucard turned around to regard him with a small, easy smile. Clancy returned the smile with his own before he noticed Dracul was watching him. Even with their glamours on, he could still see flashes of his true eye colour seeping through, and the glow of crimson sent chills into his veins that he almost missed Alucard's question.

"Did everyone return safe?"

"Yeah, it's lucky that you found the lost camp. They brought a lot of supplies with them." 

Clancy smiled to hide his nervousness at receiving the older vampire's attention. The journey back to the camp had been nerve-wracking. He had sensed the growing tension amongst his men about their vampire allies and he couldn't exactly blame them. They all knew of Alucard's character and capabilities; the pale-haired vampire had been a trusted comrade for as long as they knew him. The Prince of Darkness however was an unfamiliar entity. 

Legends and history records told gruesome tales of the Dragon's wrath that once engulfed parts of the continent in chaos because the extent of his powers were limitless and unmatched. Even growing up to said legends didn't prepare Clancy to what Dracul was truly capable of. The recent show of power—he suspected were both a proof and a warning of how efficient the vampire lord could be if his ire was invoked—caused him to wonder how lucky and idiotic he was for challenging the other's authority so brazenly before.

"We should be good for at least a month if nothing else happens," he supplied, voice tight as he still felt the steel blue— _ruby_ —eyes bore into his very soul. "Thanks. I mean...thank you for helping us." _For being on our side_ , he supplemented as he braved a look at Dracul. For a brief moment their eyes met in electric silence and the redhead had the strange urge to shrink into his boots. Surprisingly, the vampire lord was the one who broke the stalemate off, turning to glare at a faraway distance with a soft grunt.

"I didn't do it for your benefit." Dracul's frown wasn't as deep when he said so, as if the gravity of his actions didn't merit such heartfelt gratitude. "Besides, you did your part equally as much, which is more effort than anyone has made in my experience."

"I told you they're competent," Alucard supplied, smiling as if it was a private joke between father and son. Dracul leered at him with a half-hearted glare but said nothing even as the other vampire's grin widened dangerously.

"Well if there's nothing else you require of me, I'll take my leave," Dracul announced with a tinge of sarcasm directed at the two. "Cleaning pests leaves me famished." He pinned his son with a reproachful look, " _You_ could use some blood."

Naturally the mention of hunger from the vampire lord made Clancy's blood freeze but Alucard's response was smooth and nonchalant, "I've supplies stashed in my quarters here."

While Clancy stared at Alucard at the fact that he kept blood—possibly _human_ blood—within reach, Dracul's attention was heavy on another subject entirely.

"You have a roost here?" The surprise and disgust warred in Dracul's voice before his frown deepened. "Is this where you are when you don't return to the surface during the day?" For some uncomfortable reason Clancy felt the scowl shifted to him.

"Don't look at me. He does what he wants," the redhead deflected with a nervous laugh. "I didn't even know he keeps a blood stash there."

"Oh, stop it. I'm not a child who needs supervision." Alucard pursed his lips in annoyance at his father's accusing look. "I'm well capable of making my own decisions. And Father, this whole city used to be your kingdom. Does it make any difference _where_ I choose to stay?"

Dracul didn't answer, although from the strain in his jaws Clancy could guess he was refraining from saying something abrasive. For some reason the redhead vaguely wondered why he was still present when this was clearly a family squabble. Before he could come up with an idea to excuse himself, a shrill squeal of joy cut through the tension.

" _Clancy_!"

A blur of red and yellow barrelled into his legs, almost throwing him off-balance if not for his heavy rifle keeping him grounded. Seeing the familiar beaming face by his hips, Clancy silently congratulated himself for maintaining his composure despite the minor heart attack he just experienced.

"Carmen, what are you doing here?" He shifted his weight to glare at his grinning, three-feet tall attacker. A messy mop of red hair framed her rosy cheeks and her almond, green eyes spoke of mischief. "What did I tell you about running around by yourself?"

The girl pouted at the reprimand. "You didn't come home last night. You didn't say you were going hunting so Nan and I got worried."

"I didn't?" A tiny stab of guilt niggled at him. "Must've slipped my mind. Sorry."

She pursed her lips at him before her eyes caught the figure behind the redhead. "Uncle Trevor!"

Alucard let out a soft chuckle when the little ball of fire bounced at his legs and knelt down to give the little girl a gentle pat on the head. His lips were stretched into a tender smile and his voice carried an airiness to it when he greeted her, "Hello, Carmen. You've grown tall since I last saw you."

Carmen puffed at the praise. "I'll turn six next month! Nan says I'm growing really fast." Her brows knitted into a small frown when she noticed the other vampire. "Who's that?"

Clancy felt cold seized his chest when Dracul's brows pinched into an unreadable expression at the attention. "Carmen—'

"I'm no one of importance, little girl," the Dragon rasped, clearly not wanting to be where he was.

Alucard straightened up and turned to Dracul. "That's not true. You're the reason we still have hope." He smiled down at the little girl. "Carmen, this is my father, Gabriel. Father, this is Carmen Reid, Clancy's little sister."

The child stared wide-eyed at the Dragon's stern face as if her tiny mind struggled to digest the information. "That means you're really, really old. Older than Uncle Trevor." She looked between the two vampires in confusion. "But... you don't look old. Your eyes are scary but you're prettier than Uncle Trevor."

Alucard let out a sound resembling a snort and Clancy felt half his life just dissipated from the clear indignation on Dracul's face.

"What?" The brazen claim had the Dragon narrowing his eyes but there was a touch of curiosity in his stern glare. "Do you see me, child?

Painfully innocent, the young girl nodded as she pointed at Alucard, as if the gravity of her admission wasn't anything odd. "Your face doesn't have cracks like him."

"Trust me, little one, he has quite the years over me. He's also rather ornery about little girls calling him pretty." Alucard shot his father a wry grin before turning back to the little girl. "Though I'm glad to see you safe and well. Where's Nan? Does she know you're here?"

The soon-to-be six-year old nodded enthusiastically. "I told her I was going to look for Clancy. She said I should only go to where there are other people around."

"Good girl." The silver-haired vampire gave her a fond pat on the head, satisfied. "You and your brother should head back to Nan before she sends a search party for you both."

The girl beamed; her green eyes shone with excitement. "Come with! Nan will be so happy to have you visit!"

Alucard smiled at the bouncing child. "Perhaps later. I still have matters to attend to." He looked at Clancy and the redhead shot him a grateful look as he tugged his sister towards the heart of the camp.

* * *

Alucard could still feel the stretch of a smile on his face long after the siblings were out of sight. Turning on his heels, he realised his father was watching him. Dracul's eyes were sharp and calculative, as if he was trying to decipher a complicated mystery on the younger vampire's face. Alucard shook his head with a fond chuckle. "Don't take her words to heart; she grew up knowing only warriors and hardened men."

"I'm not. Far for me to be bothered by a child," Dracul asserted with a slight pout in his tone while folding his arms across his chest; a defensive gesture that sang discomfort louder than his denial. "She sees who you are and _what_ I am, yet she feels no fear."

Alucard smiled sadly at the guarded loathing in his father's words. Dracul's hatred was a constant denomination—an ever-present flame that burned in his soul—and for all the legends and myths of his terrible wrath, Dracul's bitterness was aimed mostly towards himself. His father never forgot who he had become— _what_ had made him take this path—that were he not immortal, the depth of his self-hatred would have destroyed him. The Dragon never afford himself forgiveness for his own regrets and often so blind to his own pain.

"She comes from a line of Seer; though their magic is mostly gone now, their blood still hold connections to the mythical forces. Simple enchantments like glamours and illusions don't work on them."

Dracul turned slightly prying eyes on him. "And they still offer you alliance despite knowing your nature?"

Alucard shrugged the jab easily, "Relationships are forged easier without secrets. The sooner they know what I am, the better we understand each other. I've known the family for eight generations and they haven't shunned me yet." He shifted his weight between his feet, slightly unsure if he should disclose the next information. "They accepted me even after knowing I'm the son of the Dragon." He saw the way his father tensed as his face twisted into that familiar mix of pain and sadness. It made his heart ache at how common the sight was by now. Alucard reached over to tug at the tightly wound arms—the defensiveness of the pose felt _wrong_ —and Dracul gave in easily. He looked at the pliant wrist in his gentle grip, revelling in the weight and power he held in his hand. His father never resisted his touches and the complete trust that meant threatened to bowl him over at times. 

"Father, I don't fault your sentiment after the betrayals upon betrayals you've endured. I cannot even begin to understand the extent of your suffering. However, these people— _this family_ —had accepted me as one of their own. I wish to share this with you, and hope that you too will be able to experience what I have."

An unfamiliar emotion ran through his father's face before he turned to look away, hiding those sharp eyes under a curtain of dark hair. The gesture spoke of the deep sadness that clung to his father and it looked exceptionally more raw on Gabriel Belmont's haggard visage. Whatever Alucard wanted to say died on his lips when his father spoke again. "They're your found family," Dracul murmured in understanding, so quiet and vulnerable Alucard had a hard time believing it was the Dragon who uttered it even though he saw the man spoke. Something fierce—something Alucard had long buried and forgotten—awoke within him and before the younger vampire truly understood what was transpiring, he had stepped forward and curled his arms around his father's broad shoulders. He felt Dracul stiffen against him even as he pressed closer until he could rest his chin on the other's shoulder. 

" _You_ are my family, Father. No one can ever take your place." He felt Dracul jerked at the weight of his words and if his father made any sound, Alucard doubted he would've heard it with how loud his heart was pounding in his ears.

"Forgive me, Son."

The sudden apology threw him off. "Father?"

Dracul shuddered in his arms while he struggled through the tightness in his throat, "I saw how you were...with that child... Sometimes I forget..." Dracul sighed against his cheek; the heaviness of it was almost suffocating, "...that you were also a father once."

Were Alucard a lesser man his knees would buckle upon the reminder. The memories of Sypha and Simon flashed in his mind and while he had long made peace with his past, he would always miss them. He sometimes wondered if he would have more time with them if things went differently, yet if he didn't go through the meaningless crusade against the Dragon, his father would have never learned of his existence. Dracul would have suffered his immortal existence alone and lost in madness, with no one he could turn to, and that alternative broke his heart even more than the loss of his wife and child. At least Simon had a fulfilling life before he died of old age—a rare luxury for most Belmonts—which was something he and Dracul could no longer attain. 

Alucard didn't know when it started but the ruthless impulse to assuage Dracul's pain drove the point home that he truly loved the man. His father had proven himself over and over that he had a tremendous capacity for love, and it _hurt_ that Alucard couldn't experience that growing up. "I'll always cherish my time as a father. It brought me much joy than I could ever dream of." To think that his father was robbed of so many made him curse the Brotherhood for their cruelty. Dracul shifted uneasily against him, likely sensing the storm brewing under his skin. Alucard forced himself to relax but tightened his embrace. "I'm sorry you couldn't experience it." 

"Trevor." There was a soft waver in his voice when Dracul whispered his name. Strong, gentle arms slowly wrapped around his torso and the warm palms rubbing along his spine made Alucard realise he was still so tense. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me but they were, and for that I am forever grateful. Your safety and happiness are all that matters to me." Alucard felt Dracul pulling away from the embrace and eased his hold. A calloused, warm hand on his cheek brought his attention to the soft smile on his father's lips. "You're a gift to this world."

Alucard let out an exasperated groan as he buried his face into the other's shoulder. "You tease me, Father." He allowed the feeling of warmth to wash over him at the responding rumble of chuckles in Dracul's chest as his father gently patted his head. Long fingers raked through his hair, combing through his thick mane in careful strokes to push any stray strand back into place. The simple act of tenderness was rare and felt so good that Alucard felt content just where he was. 

Though his father thought otherwise. 

"We've stayed here long enough. You need rest." 

"I'm fine but I suppose we should go," Alucard reluctantly agreed but allowed Dracul to apply the last finishing touches to tame his hair before pulling away. "My tent is only a short distance away." He motioned towards its direction as he began to walk.

"I much rather we return to the surface," Dracul said as he followed the younger vampire. "This place is far too crowded for my tastes." The implication of his complaint was not lost to Alucard. The camp now harboured members of the Brotherhood of Light. While they had been lucky to avoid detection during their brief encounter, if the Brotherhood members were trained in as much magic as they once did, they would be able to sense the vampires' enchantments after a prolonged exposure. Alucard didn't know what would happen if that came to pass but he would defend his father against their prejudice at all cost.

* * *

Dracul walked silently behind Alucard, letting his eyes roam the areas they passed through. Torches and campfires lit the area where people congregate, making the smell of sweat and smoke more potent. He saw the curious looks thrown their way; their clean suits stuck out like a beacon amongst the sea of unkempt rags. They passed a large clearing where the aroma of stew and campfire filled the area. It appeared to be where they gathered for meals. Several people stopped in their tracks to stare when Alucard greeted the cooks and kitchen staff but returned to their devices when Dracul narrowed his eyes at them. They passed several tents where Alucard greeted more people and allies while the Dragon shadowed his moves in silence. The two travelled past the main area until they reached a small tent secluded from the rest.

The tent was only a little improvement from pieces of tarp thrown over a few sticks. The space inside was small, further cramped by a portable cot and a few choice furniture. Dracul scrunched his nose at the cot; it was a flimsy construct of cheap metal frames and coarse canvas that looked far too small for Alucard's tall form.

"I don't sleep here. I only have it installed to ward off suspicion," Alucard supplied as if he knew what his father was thinking.

"You could still get a better bed." Even though he hated the idea of his son living amongst strangers, he still preferred Alucard having a comfortable option available should he need a quick rest.

"You have a bed even a king would envy and yet I've never seen you sleep anywhere but on your throne, Father." Alucard shot back as he made his way around the small space with purpose in his gait.

The Dragon paused to mull about the statement. He could barely remember the last time he allowed himself a proper rest. Sleep gave way to nightmares and he was always left feeling vulnerable during the few times he succumbed to slumber. After waking up with horrified, pain-filled screams bleeding out of his dreams, the idea of sleep gradually no longer held any appeal to him. The castle's penchant in magnifying horrors and trauma certainly played a factor in his decision. He silently observed Alucard’s back; a thoughtful look entered his face. He _did_ feel more at ease knowing his son was nearby. "Very well. I'll sleep in bed if you do so too."

Alucard let out a sudden burst of laughter. "Don't you think I'm a bit too old to sleep in the same bed as my father?"

Dracul pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, feeling his face warming at his son's amused tittering. He had walked right into that one, hadn't he? "You're worse than your mother." Thankfully the sight of maps and papers strewn over a small work desk across the room stole his attention. They appeared to be blueprints of the city from different stages—no, from different _periods_ —where he could make out the castle's original stonework with the new structures overlay. He carefully traced a finger along the fine details, picking up a thin layer of dust from the yellowed parchments. He picked the top sheet and blew the dust off to study the fine print more closely, sending a cloud of dust motes flying into the musty air. 

"Sorry everything is a bit dusty, I didn't have the time to tidy up. Wasn't exactly expecting any visitor," Alucard called out from beside the cot, rummaging inside a large, metal trunk hidden under a thick woollen patchwork. 

Dracul let out a non-committal hum at the explanation, sifting through the rest of the maps and diagrams in silence before moving to peruse through the few articles of clothing hanging from a makeshift clothes rack. These clothes were less elaborate, made of materials soft enough for daily wear, which was most probably what they were for. He had seen some of them on billboards around the city and Alucard actually favoured the soft, fine cotton kinds for sleeping.

"Here." Dracul turned to see his son held out a small, unassuming silver pouch to him. 

"What is this?" The first thing that came to mind when Alucard dropped the bag into his palm was how it had a substantial weight to it. He could hear liquid sloshed within the plastic and it was cold to the touch. He couldn't see what it contained but from the fine, rubber tube poking out of the pouch, he could tell it was blood. Alucard knew well of his skepticism; he wouldn't stop pestering the younger vampire unless he was certain that Alucard really kept a supply of blood nearby. His son's easy understanding and efforts to alleviate his concerns mollified him, so Dracul allowed his posture to loosen.

"It's human. _Donated_ ," Alucard added as if knowing what Dracul was about to ask. "They have nearly twenty blood banks in this city. Getting a few bags is easy when you have connections in half of them."

Dracul studied his son's face curiously. "I thought you only feed on livestock." Alucard's aversion to harming humans kept him from feeding his fill, and while he didn't like Alucard starving himself, he always admired his son's restraint and resilience.

"I still very much prefer to," the younger vampire admitted, "But in a big city such as this, it's easier to ask a hospital staff than a butcher for blood. That being said, I will need to resupply soon, although I'm not too sure if those establishments survive the outbreak." 

Dracul returned the bag to him after a brief inspection. "If there's a need for it, you can always feed from me. You won't need a lot because my blood is potent." 

Alucard grimaced. "A little too potent. Your blood is the equivalent of a strong wine to a teetotaller. This is easier to digest," he said, waving the blood bag before drinking from it. 

Dracul sighed as he folded his arms across his chest. "You wouldn't feel the effects so strongly if you weren't limiting your feeding." 

The younger vampire shrugged stubbornly as he finished the blood pack, walking back to the chest to dispose of the empty bag. Having straightened the quilt cover, he turned, looking more refreshed and alert than before. "Alright, let's go."

Dracul frowned. "A bag of blood is hardly enough. You still need to rest."

"I feel fine, Father." Alucard patted his shoulder in assurance. "I'll sleep when we get back to the surface. Right now I can't rest until I check on the new settlers. I want to see if the antidotes we brought back are enough." His lips twitched. "There's also someone who thinks my father is pretty whom I would like to visit."

* * *

Clancy laid in his cot, full and sleepy from a recent meal. Being underground he couldn't tell the time without a timepiece but if he were to make a rough estimate, nearly an hour had passed since they returned from the hunt. Usually the adrenaline from the hunt would keep him up for a while longer but after the eventful night they had, the stress left him feeling a little more worn. The redhead shifted under the pile of blankets draped over him to stare at the campfire burning near the tent. They managed to scavenge several generators for lighting but due to the scarce resources, they had to limit them to the more critical areas like the infirmary and emergency support. No matter how many campfires and torches they lit around the camp grounds, they could never banish the cold and darkness from the cavernous space. He wouldn't be surprised if the place was cursed; bearing the brunt of the Dragon's reign for centuries would've left a lasting mark.

Staring at the dancing flame brought memories of the last hunt to the forefront of his mind. He had little doubt the gruesome sight of Dracul delivering his vengeance upon the creature would leave him anytime soon, if ever. Clancy had never seen anyone annihilate their opponent so completely—and with barely any effort—like the vampire lord did. The level of brutality Dracul was willing to go through in punishing such a slight offence invoked a feeling of dread in his heart, yet at the same time, knowing that rage came from the man's desire to protect his son left Clancy feeling a bit awestruck. Alucard had always said that his sire had a fierce protective streak in him and if the redhead hadn't known the pale-haired vampire all his life, Clancy would have a hard time understanding why. 

Every Belmont was meant to be a protector, regardless of how the man was now known as the Prince of Darkness. Alucard had bore a version of his father’s story, one which was erased from the records of history, of one man’s selfless devotion skewed by the empty promises of none other than the Brotherhood of Light. As the first of the illustrious bloodline, it was Gabriel Belmont's fated crusade that started the swing of the pendulum that set the fate of his bloodline for generations to come. He heard of how every generation of Belmont—each an exceptional warrior on their own—challenged the vampire lord only to fail in their task. Clancy didn’t think to ask if the Dragon showed mercy on his own blood; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to that question.

Due to their tumultuous past, Alucard’s earlier recounts of his father had been reserved—it was a sore subject for the pale-haired vampire, after all—but seeing their recent interactions, Clancy was relieved that they were on better terms now. He doubted it would be the last time they witnessed the Dragon's power display, though he hoped it would always be in their favour. He shuddered at the thought of having to oppose someone so powerful. How the Brotherhood of Light thought they could stand against a being of such terrible power was beyond him. 

"Clancy dear, why are you still awake?"

The sudden voice behind him nearly made him spring out of his cot and reach for his gun. "Nan Rose!" Clancy turned around in his cot to see an old, petite woman sitting on a chair in the back corner of the tent. With the campfire providing just enough light to see around the corners, Clancy found his eyes were drawn to her face. It was the face of someone who had weathered a lifetime of hardship—the lines on her face were like scars of time—although it was easy to see that she once held beauty in her youth. Approaching six decades of her life, strands of red lined her now mostly grey hair—a stubborn trait in their family—that was braided neatly into a tight bun. Even swathed in a thick patchwork of red and green wool double her size, Rose Reid was a presence. He would know; she single-handedly raised him and his sister after their parents died. 

"When did you come in?" Clancy asked, shifting on his cot to get more comfortable. Wisps of steam rose from the mug she clutched in her frail hands, which meant she had just settled in. Clancy was always baffled at how someone looking so frail could move undetected. 

"There's no need to be ashamed. I've watched over five sons and eleven grandsons to know how puberty works," she said with a wry grin on her lips. 

"That's not what I meant," Clancy felt more awake now that his face was burning at the insinuation. "I'm just a little excited. We did a lot of good work last night," he lied in response to her question.

"I heard," Rose allowed, her gentle voice slowly eased his nerves. "I feel the mood is generally lighter within the camp this morning but I sense tension from you." She pinned her milky eyes on him. Clancy forgot how the loss of sight never dulled his grandmother's senses. "Carmen told me she met Trevor. How is he doing?"

He shifted uneasily, a sense of trepidation crept over him at the line of question. "You know him. Always helping around." Alucard was as stubborn as he was kind. Clancy was willing to bet the pale-haired vampire was still milling around the camp, touching base with every workstation to gauge the situation. "He'll probably drop by later since Carmen asked him to." Alucard was exceptionally fond of children, and in turn, children were fond of him. 

Especially when the vampire in question could morph into a fluffy white wolf. Even he fell in love with the white wolf as a kid, thinking the friendly creature that kept a close distance to the family land as a harmless animal despite its unusually massive size and razor-sharp canines. Were he born in another family, that alone would be a reason for concern but he came from an old line of Seer; his lineage was so deeply rooted in the old magic that the supernatural was the norm.

It was then the prospect of Dracul joining Alucard on his visit made his heart drop to his stomach. Despite being on relatively good terms from their earlier interaction, Clancy dreaded how his grandmother would react to the vampire lord's dark energy. His sister reacted fairly calmly after meeting the Dragon but he factored it due to her being innocent. Rose was more attuned to the old magic— _all of their women were_ —and considered to be the most powerful Seer in their bloodline. Out of the three of them, Clancy was the weakest; he was only able to sense magic if he focused hard enough, or after it had already smacked him right on the nose. Dracul’s power was like a solid body tackle to said face; forceful, fierce, and loud. He wondered how his grandmother would react in the face of such raw, physical energy. He looked around as if he had just noticed the absence of his sister. "Speaking of Carmen, where has she gone off to?"

"I sent your sister to the canteen for some supplies. She may have gone to play with Edda again," she mulled with a thoughtful hum. "You're worried about her being around the Dragon."

Clancy shrunk into himself. No one outside his select team knew about Alucard, let alone Dracul. The knowledge was a tightly kept secret between them and he had full trust in the loyalty of his men. _Carmen must've spilled._ "You know Carmen can see through illusions, Nan. I don't want her to see things she shouldn't."

"Clancy, your sister has seen far worse than you and I have." Her tone was calm and slightly amused. "Remember when you and Carmen stumbled upon the forest nymph? She saw through its tricks and got you both home safely. She'll be fine." Rose slowly sipped her tea and settled deeper into her seat. "Trevor will keep her out of harm's way."

The image of Dracul obliterating his foes with little effort came to mind unbidden. "Yes, he will," he agreed even though he felt no confidence in that promise. Clancy doubted Alucard could contain such a destructive power even if he tried. He knew he was stalling, but he really didn't want to entertain thoughts about the threat of having the Prince of Darkness amongst the common folks. 

"I'm back!" The familiar chirp made them both look up just as their current subject entered through the tent flap. "They don't have the tea you want so I got the other one with sage that you like." Carmen placed the overflowing satchel of supplies on the table. "Do you want some now?"

Rose smiled gratefully. "Thank you, dear. That would be wonderful."

She beamed at the praise as she made to prepare a pot of tea before setting it on the makeshift table they had across the cot. She looked around curiously before turning to Clancy. "Is Uncle Trevor coming?" 

"Oh, you just missed him. He left minutes ago," Clancy said with a faked heavy, sympathetic sigh, propping his head up to look at his sister's crestfallen face.

" _Clancy_." Rose admonished when she could sense how distressed Carmen was. "Don't worry, dear. You didn't miss anything. Trevor hasn't come by yet."

The young girl's mouth opened in shock before her eyes narrowed on her already snickering brother. "You're such a prick!"

"Your face..." Clancy wheezed, "You should've seen the look on your—oof!" He yelped when the full brunt of a little girl jumped onto his chest. He was built for agility, not to withstand the weight of an angry, small human, so the position meant that he was unfortunately at her mercy. Well, as long as he was too busy laughing at least.

"It's not funny!" Carmen shrieked as she pounded her small fists at her hollering brother.

The two hardly heard their grandmother amidst the shrieks and laughter. "Children, don't quarrel." Rose shook her head with a small exasperated smile. Since the death of their parents, Clancy and Carmen had become thick as thieves despite the twelve years age gap, but she knew it was in the nature of siblings to butt heads no matter how close they were. She ruefully thought of the days she had to pry them off each other’s backs when bruises start to show, though no matter what, their closeness meant their fights always dissolve into laughter. 

Clancy did his best to duck from his sister’s assault, trapped as he was. "You need to lay off the sweet bread, Carmen, you're heavy—ow!" He winced when a sharp pain stung his bicep. "You pinched me! I'm telling Nan on you!"

"Nan knows you deserve it!" the little girl huffed, gratified, before hopping off the cot looking overly pleased at winning the fight.

"Enough, you two. I swear, one day, you both are going to bring the entire roof down." Rose perked up, her smile widening as she turned to face the tent flap. "What would Trevor think, seeing you two right now." 

"Dismayed, I'd say. I didn’t know I raised such rambunctious, unruly children," said a new voice before a tall figure in blue stepped through the entrance. There was a shudder of old magic in the air, a sensation their family knew all too well. 

"Uncle Trevor!" 

Alucard’s dark lips broke into a wide smile as he knelt to allow Carmen a full embrace. He didn’t bother putting up his glamour with them though he still had his casual suit on, which did little to mitigate how his tall form dwarfed the little red-headed girl. “I came by just as promised. I hope you’ve been good to your grandmother and brother.”

Carmen nodded enthusiastically. “I help Nan with errands and chores!” She leered at her brother, “Clancy’s a bit of an arse though.”

“Hey!” Clancy called out indignantly, already pushing himself to sit up in his cot, any attempt to sleep abandoned. “You’re no saint either, tattler.” With a furtive glance at their matriarch, he cleared his throat and he scooted aside, patting the space beside him for his sister to join him. Carmen made a face at his silent signal but promptly came over to sit.

Alucard chuckled softly at the siblings' antics as he straightened up, his eyes searching for the third person in the room. “Rose,” he breathed out with a gentle smile when he saw her, stepping gracefully towards the aged woman, his hands already reaching out to hold the older woman’s outstretched hands. “You seem well. I’m glad.”

“Trevor.” Rose smiled, unseeing eyes crinkled with both joy and pleasure. “It’s so good to have you visit again.”

The silver-haired vampire’s smile faltered a little. “Forgive me. I had to stay away. I couldn’t have them know about you.” He squeezed the frail hands in his, sadness hung heavy in his voice, “After what I’ve put you through, I loathe to cause you more harm.”

“You’ve nothing to apologise for, Trevor Belmont. I don’t fault your caution, your duties are far too great to leave anything to chance. As for this,” she motioned vaguely to her face, “I knew very well what I was doing, you know this.” Rose tilted her head, her smile still wide and kind. “We’re all but cogs in the machinations of fate.” 

Alucard smiled a little bitterly at the phrase, “Fate has always been cruel, but should it ever be kind, I hope it would be to you. A kind soul like you deserves better.”

Rose chuckled, “Come now, you’re making this old girl blush.” She smiled easily but there was a slight weight over her brows. "Is he outside?"

Alucard made a sweeping look over a very pensive Clancy and a very curious Carmen on the cot before looking back at Rose. "He is," he affirmed quietly, "I came in first so you can prepare; I know how receptive you are."

Hearing this, Carmen peered out curiously. "Isn’t your da coming in?"

Rose turned at her grand child's excitement. "Aren't you afraid, Carmen? He is the one they called the Dragon." 

The question seemed to baffle the young girl as she frowned and blinked at her grandmother. "Why? He doesn't feel like a bad man."

"There you have it," Rose said with a smug smirk. "Carmen is as receptive as I am. We'll be fine."

Alucard looked unconvinced but when Clancy just shrugged and nodded his agreement, he relented. "Very well." He turned on his heels to stare out of the tent with an unreadable look on his face.

It was then Clancy noticed he couldn't hear any sound from outside. Their tent wasn't secluded but the usual chatters and activities around them were strangely absent. Even the campfire made no sound louder than the occasional soft crackles. It made the rustle of the tent flap so unbelievably loud that he jumped when a pale, clawed hand pushed through. A dark head followed next before the full figure of Dracul stood tall inside the tent. The amber light from the campfire and torches made his red suit look like blood. The older vampire discarded his glamour as well, though in his case, glamour would be a moot point. He didn't know what happened in the last hour but the Dragon's dark power felt more oppressive now. His red irises glowed in the dim light, scanning the three occupants in the room. Clancy felt a shiver ran up his spine when those eyes lingered on him and Carmen. They were unreadable and that was what made them even more unsettling. 

“Dear God,” Rose whispered softly under her breath, her face turned a few shades paler.

Clancy looked at her in alarm; if he could feel Dracul’s presence so strongly, his grandmother would have had it worse. His sister was strangely quiet too and sported a focused look on her face. “Nan?” He was about to stand up when the older woman lifted a hand to stop him.

“I’m alright,” she assured, her voice already gaining its usual firmness. He suspected Alucard’s assuring squeeze on her hand helped her regain her bearings. She turned her head around until her face was directed squarely at the Dragon. “Welcome, God’s Chosen. It's good to finally be able to put a face to the famed legend. Please, have a seat." She diplomatically motioned towards the two chairs set up across the room.

If that title drew any reaction from Dracul it was gone in an instant. Alucard gave Rose's hand a gentle squeeze before he went to take a seat in one of the available chairs, motioning his father towards the other beside him. The older vampire paused to consider his actions, looking around the enclosed space with bright, calculating eyes. It occurred to Clancy that Dracul was as unsure of the situation as they were. Being in close proximity to humans probably wasn't something he was used to. Recalling Alucard’s stories about his father's rough life, he understood the vampire lord's reservations. Perhaps it was due to his son's relaxed confidence that Dracul slowly took the offer and sat down, his oppressive aura lessened when he no longer towered over the humans. Sitting side by side, Clancy couldn't help but compare the two.

Alucard was the picture of prim relaxation; his spine flush against the back of the chair, shoulders loose, and his long legs were spread slightly in the available space in front of him. He was really tall that Clancy was amazed he could be so comfortable in such a tiny space. Dracul also appeared relaxed with how he sprawled uncaringly in his seat; the chair was barely accommodating his thicker build. His pale, clawed hands rested deceptively gently on the armrests although there was something vicious about him constantly bubbling underneath the surface. It was especially hard to ignore when his burning gaze was still intensely focused on Rose when he spoke. 

“You’re a Seer.” The raspy quality of his voice sounded as if it was constantly disused, as if the vampire lord was more used to growling than talking—something Clancy already suspected to be likely the case—although the edge of hostility was not present, making him sound rather...gentle.

Rose smiled at the cautious tone in the vampire's voice. "I am."

A small frown etched over the Dragon's brows. "My presence must not feel pleasant for you. Seers of your calibre—who are still receptive to the old magic—would be repulsed by my power.”

“It is too vicious and dark, yes, against our more natural alignment,” Rose agreed smoothly, her smile widening. “I appreciate your concern, but you need not worry. Having known Trevor for years, I’m already used to processing the...darker alignment.” 

“Father,” Alucard spoke for the first time, the pride and joy were unmistakable in his voice. “This is Rose Reid, Grand Matriarch of the Reid household.” His smile turned sad. “And the last of the great Belnades line.”

Clancy and Carmen looked between themselves in confusion. They knew their grandmother’s maiden name was old but they never thought much of its significance. Rose had left her family land after she married into the Reids and even though they knew of the supernatural potential in their bloodline, they never thought of where it originated from. This information seemed to be of great significance because there was a telling surprise in Dracul’s face.

“Belnades...” the vampire lord looked at his son with something akin to pain in his eyes. “I know that name.”

“You do?” It was Alucard’s turn to sound surprised, curiousity lilting his voice.

Dracul’s face twisted into a grimace, “Your son barged into my castle declaring the same oath of vengeance you did. After what happened with you, I learnt to investigate his claims so I wouldn’t make the same mistake.” There was a certain heaviness in that history that both vampires fell silent for a moment.

“You let him live,” Alucard finally spoke up, his eyes gentled when he looked at his sire, “Despite what he did and your vow to destroy the Belmont bloodline, you allowed him to prosper. Thank you.”

Dracul’s face was blank as if he didn’t want anything to show but the way his eyes softened in understanding was telling enough. “He is your son,” he said simply.

That seemed enough for Alucard however and he dipped his head in a slow nod. 

The topic seemed so personal—so intimate—that Clancy felt uncomfortable just being there. The sudden silence following the discussion didn't help either as Carmen squirmed restlessly beside him, making him feel antsy himself. He cleared his throat, feeling his courage wobble when both vampires turned towards him before he motioned at the table, "Carmen just made tea. It's best to enjoy it while it's still hot." That seemed to perk his sister as she bounced off her seat in excitement. 

"It's sage and it's good for helping you relax. It tastes great with honey and lemon but we only have honey right now." Her cheerful voice broke the sombre mood and drew the vampires' attention to the present. Dracul blinked at the unexpected offer while Alucard smiled gently at the young girl. Naturally it would be ridiculous to offer vampires any beverage other than blood—or offer at all. Perhaps they were a little too used to dealing with the unnatural. 

Rose chuckled in delight. "Yes, this cold weather is the perfect time to enjoy a hot mug of tea. Carmen, be a darling and pour tea for our guests." Clancy could see Dracul's lips parted to decline but Alucard easily nodded his acceptance, prompting Carmen to pour him a steaming mug of tea. A regular vampire could never sustain a human diet; their bodies so damaged by their change into an undead it rendered them unable to digest regular human food. However, Alucard never indicated it to be a problem for him. Clancy knew the pale-haired vampire reserved a certain level of enjoyment in consuming human food even if it was something as bland as tea, and while it provided nothing in terms of sustenance, it helped Alucard blend in as a human in many past situations.

"Smells wonderful," said vampire murmured after giving it a whiff before catching the eyes of his stunned sire. "Would you like some, Father?" 

"I don't drink tea," Dracul pointed out flatly after gaining his composure, his eyes narrowing with slight distrust. 

"All the more reason for you to give it a try then." Alucard replied with a challenging smirk. "It's not like a cup of tea could harm you, Father." He poured a second mug before Dracul could object and held it out to the older vampire. The Dragon stared at the mug and his son's face before Alucard raised his eyebrows expectantly. There was a sense of old argument in the silent exchange before Dracul sighed and accepted the mug, making the younger vampire's smile widen.

Mug in hand, Alucard relaxed back into his chair. He took a sip from his mug and hummed in approval when the hot liquid washed down his throat. Unlike Alucard, Dracul didn't drink his tea and just cradled the mug between his clawed hands, watching the gentle steam that rose from the amber liquid with perhaps a little puzzlement in his eyes, as if he was trying to determine the effects it could have on him, despite how Alucard seemed to enjoy his tea without any obvious discomfort. He scanned the room instead, took a careful sniff of the air, and frowned.

"Is the tea not to your liking?" Rose asked, nursing her own fresh cup.

Dracul ignored her question. "Why are you here? You're not originally residents of this land." His eyes swept over the siblings. "As Seers, you should know this city is my domain."

Rose smiled kindly, ever so calm at Dracul's thinly-veiled skepticism. She knew it would be hard to gain his trust so soon. "We came here to fulfill our part. We couldn't let Trevor do everything himself, this burden is ours as much as it is his."

The Dragon scoffed. "The fate of the world is not for little children to bear." 

She tapped a finger against her mug with a thoughtful hum. "Is that what ails you? Having young children here?"

Clancy was suddenly reminded of the stories of the mountains of children's bones found underneath the city. From Dracul's demeanour, he highly doubted the vampire lord posed an active threat against children. Alucard wouldn't allow them to meet otherwise. However that didn't explain the lost children beneath the castle grounds. Were they victims of other evil drawn to the castle by Dracul's power? If so, would said evil return now that the Dragon reappeared? The line of thought made Clancy unconsciously squeeze Carmen closer against his side. He felt more than saw the curious look his sister shot at him as his eyes remained glued on the vampire lord. 

Alucard remained silent, watching the interaction between his father and Rose over the rim of his mug with clear interest. From how attentive he looked, Clancy wondered if the younger vampire was as curious as he was about the details. 

Dracul paused to mull over the question, looking at the siblings— _at Carmen especially_ —and shooting his son a thoughtful look before he turned to face Rose. "If you ask if I actively seek harm upon children, no, I don't. But do not mistake me for a good man. Your charges are your own. I have neither condone nor deny fate to run its course. The world will simply be."

Clancy winced inwardly. That was a vicious way to say 'I don't care'.

"You're so brutally frank. Trevor always said he admired that about you," Rose mused out loud, smiling knowingly as if she expected the callous response. 

The line of tension in Dracul's neck jumped slightly and his voice hardened. "I may be many terrible things but I never cower behind lies. I will not paint myself in a false light." Almost as if it never happened, his shoulders relaxed and he returned to his lazy sprawl. "Regardless, whatever you may believe is of no consequence to me." 

"My father is no liar but he is not forthcoming with the truth either," Alucard spoke out, shooting a wry look at his sire. "It's like he revels in the terrible reputation he gains." 

Dracul gave a noncommittal shrug. "I've been nothing but truthful all my life but none would believe in the words spoken by The Prince of Darkness."

There was sadness in Alucard’s eyes at the simple admission that his face softened for a moment before returning to his neutral expression. "The city records are memoirs written by those who perceived facts to their favours, thus cannot be treated as the complete truth." His smile turned rueful and a touch bitter that his fangs peeked through. "The Dragon's retribution only comes to those who deserve it." 

For a brief moment Clancy sensed ruthless pleasure from the younger vampire's voice, as if he derived satisfaction from the knowledge that his father's enemies got their just deserved. He knew Alucard had no love for the Brotherhood of Light but he never outright agreed with his father's actions before.

From the way Dracul looked at his son, he seemed just as surprised. 

"I found scrolls in the harpy's nest while I roamed the deeper parts of the castle grounds," Alucard explained when he caught his father's questioning look. "They explained the truth about the mountain of bones underneath your castle. It's vile how the Brotherhood shamelessly perverted what really happened to spread lies about you."

"It's what they do." Dracul waved his hand dismissively at the claim, as if it was something he had already accepted long ago. "The Brotherhood would never admit to their own falling into depravity. They simply find it easier demonizing me to further propagate their own goals."

"It's easier to control the fearful and the ignorant," Rose agreed sagely, "Not everyone believed their words, however. With the Brotherhood gone, the church is no longer as powerful as it once was. I wouldn't be surprised if the world thought of your existence as nothing more than a mere myth."

"Myth." Dracul's eyes burned as he sneered, "Mankind has always been good at believing their own lies."

"Personally I prefer to be forgotten. There's freedom in anonymity." Alucard tilted his head at the three humans. "I wouldn't have been able to meet them otherwise." 

Curiosity flashed in Dracul's eyes. "You've yet to tell me of that." His interest was understandable. Mankind wasn't usually too accepting of creatures of darkness so Clancy couldn't fault the Dragon's wariness of their motives when his own son's well-being was at stake. 

Alucard shifted in his chair, appearing a little hesitant to recall the memories. “After our second encounter, I found myself lost without purpose. Everything I had or known of was gone." The corners of his dark lips curled up slightly. Pride and sadness rode on equal weight in his smile. "Everything except Simon. He was as lost as I was, yet he needed not suffer my loneliness. It took him a few years to reconnect with his mother’s side of the family. I kept watch over them from the shadows since then.” He motioned towards the three. “I would have stayed hidden too if the Belnades’ magic hadn’t found me out.”

Rose made a face, “ _Please_. Magic had nothing to do with it. Great Gran Róisín saw you frolicking in the nearby forest. You were not very subtle.”

Alucard looked mildly miffed at being called out, folding his arms across his chest with a proud huff. “I still managed to remain unseen for over seven hundred years.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And I wasn’t frolicking, mind you. I was patrolling.”

“Mmm, so you playing with the Reid children in the forest is called patrolling too?” Rose pointed out, nodding her head at her gawking grandchildren. “My children couldn’t shut up about getting a pet wolf for weeks. If my poor James didn’t know of our history by the time we wed, he would have had a heart attack hearing how his children played with a massive beast in the wild as if it was a normal house dog.”

"It was really fun though! Uncle Trevor showed us how to trap rabbits and birds," Carmen piped up with a cheeky grin, swinging her dangling feet. Clancy felt his lips quirked at the memory. Their parents fondly spoke of Trevor as if he was an old, dear friend. It took a bit of time to understand why. Stories of the massive yet gentle white wolf had become staple amongst the Reid household. Even their distant cousins and friends heard of them despite lacking the knowledge of truth behind the legend of their family's powerful guardian.

"To be fair, _I_ learnt," Clancy reiterated, giving his sister a sly look. "You were too busy hanging on Trevor’s back to do anything else."

The tiny redhead pouted, "I was _three_!"

Rose raised her eyebrows at Alucard and silently motioned at her bickering grandchildren as if she had made a point.

The pale-haired vampire only held his head in his hand in resignation. 

"Hold up," Clancy looked between his grandmother and Alucard when he noticed one glaring detail. "That means Trevor followed you? What about the Belmont line?" The others looked at the pale-haired vampire in interest, especially Dracul who shifted in his seat to face his son.

"The Belmonts didn't need me," Alucard answered, lifting his face up and pursing his lips in a slight pout. "They were the best hunters mankind could have and they had the Brotherhood on their backs; my presence would only complicate matters for them." The displeasure on his face clearly indicated he wasn't happy about it. "As for your ancestors, their reputation was not so revered. During your great ancestors' time, Seers were still seen as witches and heretics. By the time witch hunts were abolished, your great grandmother’s family was the last Belnades to remain." 

Rose hummed, "They fear us due to our ability to glimpse a possible future. We can see through illusions and sense supernatural energies. Although, being able to peek through the veil of time is both a leverage and a threat to the power balance between kingdoms." She tilted her head at Alucard. "Which made it all the more ironic that the Brotherhood who shunned our gift was in possession of an artefact similar to our ability." 

"The Mirror of Fate." Alucard’s jaw tightened when he all but spat the words as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth. It shocked Clancy to hear such blatant resentment coming from the usually composed vampire. "That power should not be trusted to them."

"What the Brotherhood had in possession was a piece of the mirror," said Dracul calmly, empathetic at the obvious displeasure in his son's voice. "It only showed a portion of the truth. A shattered, murky vision of the future the Brotherhood elders interpreted to suit their twisted cause. They coveted the full mirror within my castle." His lips curled into a predatorial smirk. "Their greed only led to their demise."

Alucard shot his sire a curious look. "You destroyed the last of the mirror."

Dracul's eyes glowed a bright red. "I did it to bury its secrets. We both know what happened when man tried to play God." The older vampire drummed his claws on the armrest. "Time and destiny are not for us to meddle with. I would rather forge my own future than be a puppet to it."

"Very wise words," Rose sounded impressed. "Even us Seers refrain from scrying if there isn't a dire need for it. Peeking through the veil usually causes more harm than good."

Dracul's eyes sharpened on her. "Is that what happened to your eyes?"

"This?" She smiled wryly although there was a hint of pride in her voice. "A relatively small price to pay when you go against the Lord of Necromancer."

Clancy saw Dracul's face darkened as the temperature within the tent suddenly dropped. He swore the hot tea in the vampire lord’s hand _froze_ and _cracked_. There was no mistake that the Dragon despised the cunning warlock from the deep, cold, hatred burning in his crimson eyes. Even though the redhead knew the anger wasn't directed to them, just being near such oppressive darkness made him skittish. He felt Carmen leaned closer against his side although her eyes never strayed from Dracul. Rose remained calm as she faced the vampire lord with unseeing eyes. Strangely Alucard appeared to share the sentiment, because his next words were just as cold and severe. 

"Zobek feared your wrath. You spend centuries hunting him down until he was too paranoid to rear his head in the open," Alucard supplied. "Only after you went into your deep sleep he dared to ease on his protection, little by little. His wards caught Rose scrying and lashed at her." Golden eyes looked at said woman sadly. "I swore to your parents I'd keep you safe..."

"You have and you did. I knew the risks. You shouldn't blame yourself for it," Rose assured with a smile. "Losing my sight changes nothing. I can still 'see' as well as before, if not better."

Dracul grunted in disgust, "The coward only knew to use trickeries to do his dirty work. I regret not giving him a more painful death." The menace in his words made the fine hair behind Clancy's neck stand. 

Alucard looked at his father, his smirk conspiratorial. "He lived for centuries fearing you, I'd wager such existence was already worse than death."

The Dragon hummed in satisfaction, his attention was drawn once again towards the humans. There was a certain weight in his attention; so heavy and sharp that Clancy consciously refrained from swallowing. After a brief contemplative pause, Dracul relaxed and carefully relinquished his untouched mug to the table. "I admit when my son mentioned of his human allies, I didn't believe him. _I didn't want to_." Dracul tapped a clawed finger on his temple lightly, suspect and caution still wafted from his posture. "I've witnessed the ugliness of humanity, so much so that it erased my faith in mankind completely."

Alucard looked like he wanted to disagree but he clamped his jaw tight and looked away. Even though not many knew of Alucard, Clancy knew the younger vampire wasn't spared of injustice because he was a creature of the night, regardless he was a Belmont first. It was in human nature to sooner fear and hate the unknown before the options to understand and accept would be considered.

"But my son doesn't share my curse." The vampire lord continued, a tiny smile slowly replaced his frown. "He isn't the one the world deemed as the enemy. I'm grateful Trevor doesn't suffer my loneliness in that respect." His eyes darted to Alucard briefly to see the surprise in his son's face before pinning the other three with his hooded gaze. "You gave him your trust and did not betray his. You allowed him into your life despite his nature and reputation. You have given him what I couldn't, and for that, you have my eternal gratitude."

Clancy blinked, taken aback. There were a lot of things he had come to expect of the Prince of Darkness but gratitude wasn't in his list. What was even stranger was how honest and heartfelt it sounded.

Rose smiled and placed her hand over her heart. "I think Trevor's the one who adopted us as his family. The Belnades were not warriors. If it wasn't for him, the line would've died centuries ago. We're more than honoured to have him."

Alucard frowned as he looked between his father and Rose. "Why do I get a sense that you two are insinuating that I was the unruly child?" 

Rose grinned wide, "You _were_ a bit of a handful."

"I'm centuries older than you. I practically raised you," the vampire pointed out flatly. "By character alone, I'm far tamer than my father."

Dracul leaned back, letting his full length sprawl easily in his seat as he eyed his son with an almost offended look. "Speak for yourself, Son. I didn’t go around adopting families by posing as a house pet."

* * *

Despite the lack of daylight, the underground refuge was still busy with the morning routine. Torches became substitutes for source of light. Harsh, white light illuminated the more busy area and Dracul remembered it to be the sick bay when he and Alucard passed it on their way here. There was a palpable ease in the community after the successful run. The medical supplies they brought back seemed to be of great use. The addition of the rescued settlers also helped set them on high spirits. Dracul forgot how easy it was for humans to cling onto hope—no matter how sliver it might be—that such naiveté sparked a deeply-ingrained resentment in his heart. Hope was the sweet poison he once swallowed only to have his expectations shattered into dust. The mirror was one such poison, and the knowledge that he destroyed the last of it continued to bring a surge of satisfaction into him.

Bored of watching the settlers going through their mundane lives, Dracul decided to stretch his legs. He left Alucard inside the tent to catch up with the family so he could roam outside and get more familiar with the surroundings. There were a few other tents around but the inhabitants were out of sight. From the scent alone Dracul could tell the tents were of Clancy's men. He idly twisted the gold band around his finger; the glamour masked his appearance but it couldn't fully hide the darkness oozing from his very being, which resulted in every sentient creature unconsciously giving him a wide berth. When he came by, the vampire lord could feel the way they froze in alarm before discreetly fleeing their tents when they thought he wouldn't notice. It suited him just fine though, he preferred the silence to sort through his thoughts. 

Alucard’s words of existing in anonymity echoed in his mind and he saw the fruits of such a concept. The group of mercenaries in alliance with his son was the perfect example. He saw how Alucard interacted with them and the way he stood within the group. Being a powerful vampire didn't affect their bond, rather the knowledge of _how_ powerful Alucard was actually inspired them to alliance. There was still a healthy amount of fear in their eyes—it would be insane for one not to caution against a being so powerful and capable—but there were also equal levels of respect and an ease of camaraderie between them.

Alucard had spent most of his life amongst humans and made the best of it. Regardless of how despicable he thought of mankind, Dracul only felt pride for his son's achievements. Alucard managed to find comfort and happiness in his second life where he couldn't, and it was enough for him.

"Gabriel?"

Dracul stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at the voice. It was a middle-aged man with medium build, clothed in light armour, and had a gun strapped to his back. His brain was quick to supply the name for the familiar face. Paul, warrior of the Brotherhood from the new group. Dracul frowned; was he so distracted to not notice the man's presence or did Paul purposely sneaked up on him? His skin prickled from the sting of holy enchantment the man was oozing with. He stole a brief glance at his hand. The golden band around his finger shone dully; still functioning as intended. 

"Good to see you again. It troubled me immensely that you had stayed behind while we made our escape," Paul said with an apologetic smile. "We should have stayed back too, it's our duty to fight.”

Dracul pursed his lips, fighting the urge to scoff at the sentiment. If they couldn’t fend off the regular infected mob, he doubted they could handle the giant beast that came after. “You needed to shepherd your group, getting them to safety was more important than jumping into battle,” he ended up saying, his eyes tracking the other man’s movement. Dracul didn’t see anyone following behind Paul and they were pretty far from the nearest populated area. If the man showed any indication of being suspicious, he could easily contain the damage if needed.

Unaware of the vampire lord’s dark thoughts, Paul chuckled in agreement. “You’re right. Still, I'm glad you got back safely." He looked around. "Your son...?"

"He's safe. He's with family." It rankled Dracul to tell a stranger _anything_ about Alucard but people tend to probe less when one was direct with their answers.

An odd look flickered over Paul's face before his smile returned. "And you're not with them?"

Dracul didn't dignify the question with an answer. His family's business was none of anyone's concern. "What do you want?" he grouched, not bothering to hide his sullen mood. Just being near someone connected to the Brotherhood made his skin crawl. 

Paul's face crumpled in dismay at the cold response before he schooled it back to that cloyingly warm smile. "I apologise if I’m bothering you. I just wanted to thank you for your help. If it wasn't for you and your son, we would still be stuck in that basement." He paused for a while. "Forgive me for making assumptions but from the way you spoke before, you seem familiar with the Brotherhood of Light." Despite his light tone, his eyes were steely and unrelenting. "Who are you?" 

Dracul was slightly impressed. Were he a lesser man, intimidation would probably have an effect on him. But he wouldn’t be called the Prince of Darkness if such an easy gambit worked on him.

“Consider our location. The Brotherhood of Light is a renowned legend,” the vampire lord deadpanned.

“Your hostility says that you’re more involved than that,” Paul pressed on, clearly not believing his answer. "Have we crossed paths before?" 

The vampire lord let out a short, mocking laugh. “Trust me, if we have, you won’t see me the second time.” His lips curled into a cold sneer. “I was one of you once. A knight of the esteemed Brotherhood of Light.”

" _'Was'?"_ Paul blinked, clearly taken aback by the unexpected admission. "Sorry, I know it’s not unheard of for one to abandon our cause but most of them had been young. You’re clearly very skilled and well-versed in our Order. If you don’t mind me asking; why did you leave _?_ "

Dracul briefly toyed with the idea of leaving the man in the dark but he suspected Paul wouldn’t leave him be without a satisfying answer. "I left because the Brotherhood saw it more fit to let my wife be murdered than trying to stop it, just to further their own scheme," the vampire lord hissed venomously as the anger and hatred he felt for the Brotherhood bubbled to the surface, digging fresh pain into the old scar. He would never forgive their betrayal for the rest of his immortal life. "Is that sufficient enough to sate your curiosity or do you need to know more about the Brotherhood's despicable acts?" He watched the way Paul's face morphed into one of horror at the revelation. The man's mouth opened and closed a few times before his voice finally worked. 

“I...I'm sorry."

Dracul snarled, "Spare me your pity. We're not acquaintances." He turned on his heels to leave before Paul spoke again. 

"I admit that the Brotherhood of Light has done questionable things in the past," the man said, his tone soft and beseeching, "But that Brotherhood is gone. We're no longer bound to the political schemes of the church—we truly fight for the good of the people. Victor Belmont saw to that. He saw what the Brotherhood could become.” He let out a shaky sigh. “But there are so few of us now. Too few of us to make much of a difference. Without the church’s backing, it’s hard to find interest in new recruits. We could do with more people like you."

Dracul clenched his fists, feeling his claws bit into his palms. "Victor Belmont is _dead_ ," he said coldly, “It means nothing to me what happens to the Brotherhood of Light. But if you truly wish to honour his legacy, don't squander his sacrifice." 

Feeling he had said enough, the vampire lord walked away briskly before Paul had the chance to respond. He had been more than accommodating around the man, if he stayed any longer he didn't think he would have the presence to remain civil. Dracul weaved through the encampment, barely giving the residents any mind as he passed them. The vampire lord was aware of their eyes on him and even though he knew none of them saw through his glamour, his skin crawled all the same. He didn't know why he even bothered blending in. Dracul worried the ring around his finger, feeling the way it strained against the tumultuous tide of his power to mask his true nature. He wasn't human—hadn't been one for the longest of time. The longer he was around humans, the more he saw the gap between them widen. Dracul looked down at his suit; the whole ensemble felt alien on his skin and far too flimsy. He missed the familiarity and comfort of his armour. Dracul carefully picked at the thin fabric of his dress shirt; Alucard wouldn't approve if he were to ruin it. Sighing, he settled with unbuttoning the shirt down until his chest was bared. The cold air on his skin was a welcomed relief as his agitation slowly ebbed away. 

Something small bumped into the back of his leg with a timid yelp, followed by a series of soft thuds. He turned around to see a pair of large, green eyes looking up sheepishly at him. "Um...hi."

Dracul raised his eyebrows when he recognised the round face. "...Carmen?"

"Carmen, you shouldn't run ahead like that."

He looked up to see Alucard walking up to them. An exasperated yet adoring smile was stretched on his son’s lips when his attention was on the child. It struck a chord in his chest; a sense of longing, perhaps also envy at the fact that he wasn’t able to have that experience. 

Being a parent to his own young child.

Alucard seemed to sense his mood shift because his golden eyes then drifted to his father. Dracul was quick to stamp down his emotions and returned his look with a neutral expression. He could see the question swirling in the younger vampire’s bright eyes though thankfully he dropped his gaze to the girl at their feet. "This path is dark and deserted. You could fall or get hurt." 

The young girl dismissed his concern with a carefree wave. "It's fine. I found Granda Gabriel!" 

" _'Granda Gabriel'_...?" Dracul echoed in wonder before he heard a cough that suspiciously sounded like a snicker. Alucard blinked innocently at him although he could see the tell-tale ghost of mirth in his son’s wide eyes.

_[Am I to believe you have no hand in that?]_

Alucard blinked in mock hurt when his accusation rang through their telepathic connection. 

_[Me? I would never. She came up with the title on her own.]_ A not-so-innocent grin stretched across his lips. _[Actually she wanted to call you 'Gramgramp Gabby' so be thankful that's what you get.]_

Dracul would probably be more inclined to believe the younger vampire had he not look so pleased with himself. The vampire lord looked down to find Carmen scrambling to collect her scattered merchandise, which seemed to be packets of dried rations. He bent down to pick a packet by his feet with ‘Turkey Salami’ printed on its garish plastic packaging. A soft nudge on his leg brought his attention back to Carmen, who held up her basket to him expectantly. It slightly perturbed him that he could detect no fear in her eyes. Wordlessly, he dropped the packet into her basket, prompting a beaming grin from the little girl. 

“Thanks, Granda Gabriel!” Giggling, she skipped around the stunned vampire lord to offer Alucard a brief hug. 

"Follow the long way on your journey back," Alucard said in a soft yet stern voice as he gently combed the messy red strands out of her face. "Don't go anywhere no one else can hear you. Always tell someone where you’re headed. If you get into trouble—"

"—run and don't look back. I know, I know. I'll be careful," Carmen sighed and promised dutifully before she bounded towards the brightly-lit camp area a few feet away. She turned around briefly to give an enthusiastic wave at the vampires before disappearing into the gathered crowd.

"Energetic, that one," Dracul commented idly as soon as he could no longer see the messy red bob amongst the crowd.

Alucard snorted, "That was nothing. She was like a raging storm when she was a wee babe." He shuddered at the memory. "Boys are easier to care for."

“She turned out fine,” he watched his son from the corner of his eyes. “A bit spoilt, perhaps."

The younger vampire winced and sighed in dismay. “Rose said the same. You can’t treat girls the same way you do boys. They require...compromise.”

Dracul looked at his son's face, eyes softening. He couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same. Marie had wanted children—a lot of them. She once told him that children would inherit their parents' traits—sons from their mothers and daughters from their fathers. He remembered how Marie practically glowed at the idea that their daughters would have his strength and resilience. He preferred all of their children to be more like Marie; kind, loving, and virtuous. The world needed more pure souls like hers. 

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Every time he thought about Marie’s death and the future that was stolen from them, the pain flared anew. He knew Marie wished for him to live out his eternity in peace and humility but he couldn’t. He spent centuries buried under layers upon layers of anger and hatred, swearing vengeance and destroying those foolish enough to challenge him, because being mad at the world was easier than living with the pain of his grief. That blind rage cost his son his mortal life and almost destroyed the only chance for love he had left.

Dracul never believed in luck—it had never been on his side—but looking at the young vampire before him now, he fiercely wanted to. Despite all the atrocities he had done, Alucard forgave him. Seeing how Alucard lived his life without the hatred constantly dragging him down made him realise how much their son resembled Marie. She had always been the strong one; strong enough to be kind when life wasn't. She always saw the good in everyone, even in someone as dark as him.

“Father?”

Alucard’s gentle tone pulled him out of his thoughts. Worry and guilt shone in his son’s eyes. “You seemed...lost in thought.”

"It's nothing," Dracul said dismissively—expertly smoothing over his private thoughts—waving Alucard’s tension away with a convincing grin. "You just proved an old opinion that the Belmont men are powerless against women." 

Alucard groaned and buried his face in his hand, finding he could say nothing to dispute that. He froze, as if something just dawned on him. Lifting his face, the younger vampire looked around them in alarm, his gaze fell on the nearby crowd before his attention shifted back to his sire. His eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise and disbelief while his jaw worked to form words. “Were you here to...?”

Dracul blinked in confusion before the accusation in Alucard’s eyes translated. “I did _not_ come here to tempt unsuspecting women. I’m not a deviant,” he huffed, a little insulted and exasperated that his own son would infer such behaviour from him. 

"Well, you can't blame me for assuming," Alucard quipped wryly, pointing at his generously bared chest.

Dracul pursed his lips and folded his arms across his exposed chest in defence. “I came here to get away from a bothersome Brotherhood lackey.”

“One of them came after you?” Any trace of mirth disappeared from Alucard’s posture at the information. “What did they want? Did they suspect your true nature?”

“Fortunately, our identities stand for now. The leader, Paul, suspected that I have more knowledge of the Brotherhood than the average citizens,” the vampire lord reported with little fanfare, still terribly sour about the unwanted encounter. “He learns I was once a knight of the Brotherhood. Because I was curt with him, he may try to dig more details from you or your companions instead so be wary. He means to recruit men into their ranks.” 

Alucard's face darkened with worry. "It won't be pragmatic if they continue to seek us through our connections. I will need to discuss the matter with Clancy later. I have absolute faith in our allies' stance regarding the Brotherhood but it wouldn't hurt to have them warned in advance."

Dracul nodded in agreement, the frown on his brows easing a little. "We can deal with that later. For now we should return to the surface." He wanted to put as much distance between them and the Brotherhood. 

"Yes, there isn't much we can do at the moment. Our men are exhausted and in need of a good rest." 

"As do you," Dracul pointed out at the obvious signs of exhaustion dragging down at his son's features. "No more delays. You need to sleep." 

At the mention of sleep Alucard grimaced, rubbing gingerly at the tense muscles on the back of his neck. "I've been spoiled by the comfort of a soft bed. Luckily the tower isn't too far from here," he breathed out gratefully, allowing his father to wrap an arm around his shoulders and steer his tired body towards the exit gate. "I don't think I can bear even five minutes under the sun." 

It must be nearly noon now. The sun would be beating down the top of their heads as soon as they exit the underground refuge. "I won't let even a strip of sunlight touch you," Dracul growled, tightening his grip around his son's shoulders. Alucard would have been equal to him if not for his vulnerability against the light. "I'll block out the sun if I have to."

Alucard stared at him, surprised at the fierce conviction in his voice before a small smile blossomed on his lips.

"I know, Father. I know."

* * *

_*chapter art*_


	3. Chapter 3

The last light of day had begun to disappear when Alucard woke up from his deep sleep. The air was cool with the light scent of rain and damp stone mixed with it. Having lived around concrete jungles for decades, he was no longer disturbed by how arid and sterile the city smelled compared to the soft scent of untouched nature he grew up in. It took a few adjustments to tune his senses to the city's more jarring atmosphere but he certainly enjoyed the conveniences that life in the city offered. 

Alucard squinted sleepily at the window; heavy, dark curtains blotted out sunlight and heat during the day, keeping the temperature inside the bedroom cool and even, making it difficult for him to gauge the exact time of day. He felt pleasantly warm and well-rested, so he must have slept through the daylight hours. Blinking away the last trace of sleepiness from his eyes, Alucard searched for the handy clock on his bedside table. The soft blue glow of digital numbers stared back at him, confirming his suspicion that he should get up. He sighed forlornly; he loathed to leave the comfort of the soft, warm sheets, but the dutiful strain in him had already moved to push his body out of the bed. He yawned so hard his jaw cracked and rubbed the back of his neck to will the muscles loose. The soft cotton shirt he wore to bed rode up his stomach as the vampire stretched his stiff limbs; the delicious pop of muscles and bones snapping into place after a long period of inactivity sent shudders up his spine, helping to rid any lingering trace of sleep from his system. Running his fingers through his dishevelled mane, Alucard eyed the messy bed he left behind accusingly, blaming the inanimate object for being _too comfortable_ , before padding into the adjoining bathroom for a much appreciated warm shower.

After the night they destroyed Zobek and Satan, Alucard had anguished over his father returning to the depressing, dilapidated cathedral. Dracul had lived long enough in seclusion and darkness, he felt a change of scenery would do good for the older vampire’s mental health. With Zobek gone, the tower was practically deserted. Considering Zobek’s reach and reputation, the wealth he had amassed over the years lent to a very comfortable lifestyle. Alucard personally wasn’t interested in the opulence and extravagance the previous owner was fond of; he chose the building because it was not dependant on the city’s power grid and water supply; it had its own power generator and water processing plant so the building could sustain itself for months on end if it needed to.

After he cleared out all possible traps and traces of the previous owner,the building was just like any normal accommodation he had been to. It had taken him quite extensive amounts of coaxing to convince the Dragon to move into the tower with him before his father grudgingly caved to his rigorous nudging. He understood why Dracul wasn’t exactly thrilled about moving into the building. The knowledge of the place being previously owned by his old enemy wasn’t making it any more appealing, but it was the most sensible. The fact that it was once owned by the Lord of Necromancer also meant there was no human factor to deal with, thus avoiding any unnecessary complications of their takeover. Alucard toyed with the idea of claiming the property legally just to have a place to stay when they were in the city. At the very least it would be a good last insult to his mother's murderer. 

Fresh out of shower and feeling a little famished, Alucard spied the clock again. It wouldn't be another hour until he needed to move out so the pale-haired vampire decided to put on a more casual pair of shirt and pants. Armed with a loose, pale blue sweatshirt, black denims, and soft leather boots, Alucard left his bedroom in search of a meal. He stopped by his father’s room on his customary way to the lounge, poking his head through the open door. As expected, Dracul was nowhere inside the room, although the articles of clothing he had previously worn were laid out on the immaculate bed. Alucard felt heat crept up his cheeks when he spied the black silk shorts thrown in the midst.

Closing the door behind him, he continued down the hall. The floor of the living quarters was nicely compact—bearing most necessities of a modest apartment unit—and remarkably insulated from the rest of the building. The fact that living accommodations actually existed in the tower was a welcomed surprise; he hadn’t thought Zobek needed one. It was most probably installed to cement his wealthy conglomerate business owner persona. Off-white walls enclosed the long corridor, illuminated by the soft, white glow of electric light. His soft boots barely made a sound on the dark marble floor, so he wasn't all that surprised to find his father unaware of his presence.

The Dragon was standing by the tall shelves that held an impressive collection of books, keenly perusing through a thick tome in his hands with his back towards the younger vampire. Even having known Dracul could be quite a studious scholar—the Brotherhood always encouraged the pursuit of knowledge as they did arts of combat—in his early years, the younger vampire had never pegged his sire as a creature of literature. Dracul’s reputation as a ruthless warrior surpassed the rest of his other traits, so seeing the quiet side of the older vampire made him look astonishingly... _human_.

He opened his mouth to greet Dracul but aborted the idea. It wasn't often he caught his father unawares so he took the rare chance to observe the other. The older vampire was clad in his usual leather pants and combat boots but opted for a simple red silk shirt—one of the many shirts Alucard had supplied—instead of the armoured coat and wide belt. The soft material of his shirt made Alucard realise that the long coat had been hiding how powerfully built Dracul really was. 

Alucard had been trained on the combat cross since he was a child but he was nowhere near the Dragon's mastery of it. The control and flexibility needed to wield such an unconventional weapon required ruthless discipline and it was greatly demonstrated by the way his father was built. The tight stretch over his shoulders made the lines of his broad back more prominent; the powerful muscles and sinews becoming leaner on their way down to his narrow hips. His long legs showed equal measures of strength; the snug leather hugged the defined shape of his thighs, boasting the power and agility in those muscles. He had seen how easily Dracul used his blood whip— _how natural_ —as if it was a physical extension of his being. Even in the most chaotic of battles, there was immaculate control in the Dragon's dance with the whip, making the sight of his combat as deadly as it was mesmerizing. His father was already an impressive warrior—extremely so even by the Brotherhood's gruelling standards—but added with his easy command of the light and dark powers, he felt the Brotherhood had massively underestimated the older vampire's true potential, and that made the Prince of Darkness surreally mortifying. Alucard wondered how he was ever convinced that he could even hope to stand against such a warrior.

"Trevor?"

Alucard twitched, suddenly aware of Dracul's curious eyes on him. His father was watching his face intently as if he was trying to read his thoughts, the tome in his hand was closed and set to be pushed back into the shelf. "Is something the matter? You have been standing still for quite some time." Bright, ruby eyes traveled over his form before alighting in amusement. "Hungry?"

"A bit," Alucard allowed, feeling his cheeks warming lightly yet still grateful for the shift of focus. Better have his father interpret his blunder due to hunger than admitting the turmoil that went through his mind. "I'm going to grab a pack from the fridge, would you like one?" He had never seen Dracul drink packaged blood but he figured he would be gracious and offered anyway.

"I'm fine. I’ve already fed," Dracul declined the offer with a small wave, turning back to finger the spine of books lined on the shelf.

Alucard narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You have." The way his father avoided his eyes made him even more leery. "You went out on a hunt while I was asleep, haven't you?" 

"I was restless. I didn't want to disturb your rest by turning on the noisy contraptions," Dracul defended gallantly, motioning towards the television set mounted on the wall with obvious distaste as if its existence personally offended him. The Dragon seemed to understand the basics of science so he wasn't all that surprised by the electric lamps and automated doors. However when Alucard tried teaching him how to operate the more complex modern appliances, his father showed little interest in them. He guessed he should be grateful Dracul didn’t outright destroy them in his frustration.

"Father, the walls are thick and insulated, the most I can hear would probably be a garbled hum at best. There's no need to risk going out." He sighed when Dracul only stared at him with wide, imploring eyes. The sight reminded him vaguely of a child trying to look innocent after breaking curfew. He was starting to suspect the fearsome Prince of Darkness was proficient at being endearing and aggravating at the same time. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a sudden need for another kind of drink. Striding towards the fridge, he perused through its contents, and picked two of the freshest looking blood bags he could reach. He would have to scavenge the blood bank soon. "Did anyone see you?"

Dracul rubbed his jaw in contemplation. "I hunted far from the shelter, no one sane should be out and about."

"I would imagine not," Alucard mumbled wryly. He ignored the glare prickling on the back of his neck in favour of swiping two large mugs from the cabinet and setting them on the kitchen counter before pouring the blood into both glasses. The dark red liquid was thick and syrupy due to the cold, sloshing sluggishly until it reached the brim of the mugs. The pungent smell of iron tickled his nose and he could feel his mouth began to water.

"When are you going to the shelter?" Alucard looked up to see Dracul approaching the counter. It seemed the older vampire had lost interest in the books. 

"After I finish my drink." He slid the second mug to his father, eyebrows raised. "Would you like to join me?" he asked over the rim of his mug. 

Dracul gave the offered mug a curious whiff and scrunched his nose. "The place is too crowded for my taste. I will stay." He paused and tilted his head. "Unless you want me to?"

Alucard swallowed the blood in his mouth and shook his head gently. "I do not wish to bore you. I am only meeting with Clancy and his men to discuss rehabilitation plans and security measures." He tapped a long, manicured nail against the counter top in thought. "With the number of survivors growing, we need to devise a plan to ensure the community survives. They can't live under the city forever. This plague has to be dealt with, posthaste."

"Did your informants not say about there being other warehouses?" Dracul asked. "Did they find laboratories as well?"

Alucard leaned back, idly pushing his mug between his two hands in thought. "Like the one where you found the first acolyte? No, they haven't found anything of the sort."

A faraway look came over Dracul's face but he said nothing. His father had a habit of keeping his thoughts to himself. Knowing the blistering past that shaped his character, Alucard could hardly fault the older vampire for his discretion. He was getting better though; Dracul was always happy to indulge when Alucard asked.

"You have a plan?" he nudged, slowly nursing the rest of his drink.

Dracul blinked, the faraway look in his eyes was replaced with a sudden clarity. "Recall how they had transported the antidotes by train. Those trains ran on rails that went through the city's underbelly."

Alucard’s brows were furrowed in thought. "I remember. The underground stations were either destroyed or deserted during the outbreak. A few cargo trains were still intact though and we had already gathered the supplies from those train cars—" His eyebrows rose in realisation as he stared at the older vampire. "You suspect they have facilities _outside_ the city," he breathed out in awe. Did his father think of it when he saw the city blueprints in his tent? 

"I suspect," Dracul indulged, "Being the acolytes were working to sow chaos in this realm, it would not be unreasonable to assume their reach extended outside the city limits."

Alucard thought back of the acolytes holding high positions of power within their organisations and found he shared the Dragon’s assessment. "Even in death, they continue to have our work cut out for us,” he sighed, staring down at his empty mug mournfully. "I can't leave though, the people need me more here." 

“Leave that matter to me,” Dracul pushed his untouched mug to his son. "Drink. You need this more than I do." 

The younger vampire gave him a suspicious look. “Can you manage on your own?” The thought of leaving Dracul alone amidst the unsuspecting human populace sent cold dread into his chest. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust the vampire lord—his father could be very well-behaved if he chose to—but seeing how opposed Dracul was of modern technology, he worried his father would have difficulty manoeuvring his way through. Images of Dracul standing amidst a pile of broken electronics in frustration while people flee the scene in panic came unbidden into his mind. “I'm sure my men can handle the situation here for a few hours,” he offered, studying the older vampire's reaction. 

Dracul tilted his head and smirked at his son’s concerned look. “I never pegged you for the clingy type, Son.” Before the younger vampire could sputter a protest, he held his hand up, “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that will be the cause for your concern. I’m only going to investigate, I will keep to the shadows.”

Alucard pouted, cradling the second mug in his hands while he levelled the most unimpressed gaze at his still smirking sire as best he could with his cheeks steadily warming. "I will hold you to your word, Father.” He scrunched his nose and leaned back once he got a whiff of the older vampire. “You should wash up before you leave. There's no way they won't smell that stench from miles away."

"It's not _that_ bad." Dracul sniffed at his shirt, pursing his lips into a defiant pout. "Nobody will pay me any mind. I've met humans who smelled worse."

" _I_ mind," Alucard stressed, chugging down the blood before he set the now empty mug on the counter. "You will not head out smelling like a meat market. I'll run you a bath before I leave. I will even stay to make sure you use the very fruity body scrub if you say another word," he added ruthlessly before his father could object, watching the Dragon's face paled in remembered horror as his jaws mercifully clicked shut.

* * *

When Clancy woke up that evening, Alucard was already inside the tent chatting with Rose. He caught snippets of their conversation about exotic places of travel and the attractions they found interesting. He was well aware that his grandmother shared Alucard’s wanderlust when she was younger so it wasn’t uncommon for the pale-haired vampire to share his travel experiences. He also heard Carmen’s occasional chirps of amazement so he knew his sister was with them. _As if she would miss the chance to cling to Trevor,_ he thought with a sigh. Rubbing his eyes, Clancy looked around blearily to see that the older vampire was nowhere in sight. He didn’t know if he should count it as a blessing; he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the Dragon. He groggily pushed the blanket off his body only to shiver at the cold air licking at his exposed skin.

“You’re up!” Carmen perked up when she saw her brother getting out of bed, attracting the attention of the other two adults with her. Alucard looked amused as the redhead sluggishly slipped out of bed. The vampire was clad in a different suit this time; a darker blue three-piece with white accents that contrasted with his pale complexion, which was not unusual because Alucard dressed to match his glamour. Clancy stared at the vampire with his eyebrows raised in question. Alucard was never this early in his visits and he usually spent time waiting with the other men rather than at his tent. 

"There are things we need to discuss," the vampire said, understanding his silent question. "Go get washed up. I'll wait until you're ready." 

_Something's definitely up._ Clancy grumbled incoherently in response—still too tired to conjure a proper sentence—as he gathered the bucket of bath essentials and spare clothes from under his cot. He remembered to nod at Alucard and Rose respectfully before shuffling out of the tent sleepily for the communal shower area. They managed to reroute the plumbing from the main water line and erect two shower areas; one for the infirmary and one for public use. The public one could be rather busy during normal hours of the day, so being it was already nightfall, the redhead hoped he didn’t have to wait long for his turn. As he suspected, there weren't a lot of people around when he arrived, although all the eight shower stalls were occupied. Suppressing a groan, the redhead resigned himself to wait by one of the stalls. He tilted his head in acknowledgement when he heard someone called his name, smiling sleepily at the familiar faces he recognised passing by. Yawning, Clancy placed his bucket down against his feet and tried to distract himself with random thoughts. He almost dozed off standing when a loud shout rang out somewhere behind him.

“Look what you did! Didn’t you watch where you’re going?”

The owner of the voice was a large man clad in heavy leather armour emblazoned with a silver cross on his chest. He had a short sword strapped to his hip and a gun holstered to his thigh. Clancy spied another two men wearing similar armour behind him; each shorter and smaller in build yet no less menacing, especially for the poor, aged woman who was currently bearing the brunt of the man’s anger.

“Sorry! I-I’m sorry!” The woman was cowering on the ground as if she wanted to sink into the earth, trying to appear as small as she could; her faded, tattered coat looked worse for wear and was haphazardly wrapped around her trembling form. A basket of laundry was tipped over by her side, spilling clothes and suds all over the area.

"You're sorry?" the man jeered, "You think being sorry will clean my boots?"

The woman’s face was pale and she was whimpering wetly in terror. “I’ll clean them up!” She scrambled to use her ragged cloak to wipe at the man's boots but yelped when the man roughly kicked her hands away.

“Fuck off! Don't touch my boots with your dirty rag!" he yelled while his cohorts snickered without mercy.

"Susan!" 

A middle-aged couple ran up to the scene and helped the sobbing woman off the floor. The man stood protectively in front of the women, glaring at the bullies in disgust. "That's no way to treat another person, let alone a weak woman. You call yourselves warriors of the Brotherhood? You're all just a bunch of bullies!" he spat, face red and fists trembling. 

"What, are you gonna take a swing at me, gramps?" The loud man sneered as he took a menacing step forward, making the older man wobble in his spot. "Without us you'd all be dead so you better show us some respect!"

"Respect? Mate, are you guys having a royal piss?"

Clancy stomped grumpily towards the group, ignoring everyone's surprised look as he stood in front of the middle-aged man. He levelled a cold, challenging gaze on the larger man. "I was the one who brought the group to your rescue. If it weren't for _us_ clearing the horde, you'd be trapped in that hole till you're dry. You ain't shit so stop waving your tiny dick around," he grounded out, jabbing his finger forcefully at the Brotherhood goon's chest.

The Brotherhood men were taken aback by the unexpected intervention but the large man was quick to recover, swatting Clancy's hand from his chest. He towered over the redhead, growling, "You don't want to get on my bad side, _boy_."

Undaunted, Clancy scoffed at the threat, "That's gonna be hard to do. I doubt you have _any_ other side."

The man's eyes bulged in anger, probably not used to have people standing up to him. Clancy tensed when he saw one of his hands twitched to reach for the short sword but before things could escalate, the other two pulled him back. "Kurt, time to go," one of them said, casting furtive glances behind the redhead. Curious, Clancy looked behind him and resisted the urge to groan. 

The commotion was loud enough to attract a small crowd. Clancy recognised half of them were familiar faces, brandishing all sorts of guns in clear view. Trust his men to swarm over an area of conflict with their armaments bared. However, perhaps it provided a welcomed benefit in the current situation. If a small army of heavily armed, trained snipers wasn't an intimidating scene then he didn't know what was.

"Everything okay, Chief?" one of them called out to him gruffly and instantly Clancy felt relief washed over him. 

"Lars." Said man was tall, average built, and had a warm face one could trust. Lars was five to six years older than him; the man was generally laid back and cheerful when he wasn't looking through his scope. Borned into a family of hunters and gun enthusiasts, he was one of the most skilled marksman in their group. In fact, Lars' grandfather and father taught most of the group about guns. Loyal and eagerly protective, his strong sense of morals was what made Clancy consider him to be one of his closest friends.

Lars offered him a stiff smile, maintaining his serious front as he repeated his question a little louder, "Are they giving you a hard time?" He held his high-powered rifle in front of his torso for an added threat; the gun was nearly as tall as he was. That beast could take down a bull elephant from miles away in a single shot. The snipers behind him followed suit, brandishing their weapons in plain view. Even the Brotherhood goons should know they were outmatched.

Clancy raised his arm in a slight wave as he turned back to lock eyes with the three. "It's fine. I think they're just about to leave." 

"Kurt!" one of the bullies hissed, tugging urgently at the larger man's shoulder. "Let's go!" The one called 'Kurt' jerked his shoulder free with a snarl, glaring back at his friends in irritation.

"Cowards." Kurt turned to shoot Clancy a look of pure hatred, growling, " _You_. Watch your back."

Clancy merely looked back unimpressed. "If I see you being a shitebag in my neighbourhood again, you better watch yours. I probably won't stop them from blowing your brains out next time," he promised in mock sweetness, motioning at the group of snipers behind him. Kurt's face twisted in anger as he stomped away from the scene with his lackeys close in tow. Clancy didn't budge until he was sure the trio left the area, turning around to check on the civilians. 

The couple had helped the teary woman up and collected her scattered laundry. "Are you alright?" The woman was still shaking but she didn't look seriously hurt. Clancy frowned when he saw the woman's tattered, wet clothes. "Do you need new clothes? I have some spare back in my tent you can use." 

"I'm alright, thank you," the woman smiled shakily, gratitude shining in her watery eyes. She looked at Clancy and the rest of the snipers worriedly. "I'm sorry I got you all in trouble."

Clancy let out a soft snort, "Don't worry, they're just a bunch of bull-headed idiots who think they're hot shit when they're not." He looked up to see Lars approaching. The rest of the group has dispersed. Once the older marksman stood beside him, he nodded at the man, "Thanks for having my back."

"Don't mention it. They've been a pain since the rescue so I have my men keep an eye on them." Lars smirked as he hoisted his rifle over his shoulder, showing no difficulty in handling such a big gun.

"Those people are hooligans," the old man griped, dropping the basket of dirty laundry at his feet and flailing his arms around in agitation. "The Brotherhood wasn't like this when Victor Belmont was still around. He was a good lad, he made us all feel safe." He shook his head sadly. "Shame the good lad died so soon. God rest his soul. Now the Brotherhood is nothing but a sham. They'll recruit anyone who can pick up a weapon."

Clancy thought back of the three. They looked able enough to fight but he had to agree they don't feel like they embodied the Brotherhood's code. With the city being cut-off from the outside world, he was aware that psychopaths with the thirst for power would use the situation to their own advantage. Victor Belmont was strict as he was kind, so it saddened him that there was no effort in vetting the new members entering the Brotherhood. It was also aggravating having to be on their toes on both fronts. As if dealing with the threat of infection from the outside wasn’t enough, they now had power-tripping psychopaths to keep in check. He looked at Lars and the latter seemed to share his thoughts. "Hopefully they'll think twice about causing anymore problems after this but we'll talk to their leader."

"Thanks, lads." The old man smiled in appreciation. "Sorry, you're probably busy. We won't take more of your time."

"I was waiting for the shower to be free so you're actually saving me from boredom," Clancy said with a shrug, prompting a few chuckles from everyone. He nodded at Lars, "Lars is going to walk you to your camp, just to make sure you're safe." Watching the group leave, Clancy slowly walked back to the shower area, already calculating up plans for the upcoming discussion.

* * *

The mercenaries had dedicated a small clearing in the midst of their encampment as a gathering spot for them to discuss their battle plans. When times were slow, they also liked to spend time relaxing around the campfire, with a large pot of soup or stew bubbling over the hearth. It was a place of comfort and Clancy was so used to being there he had chairs and cots installed.

When he arrived at the spot, Alucard was already there with most of the men. He saw everyone was enjoying their dinner of stew and hot coffee. Even Alucard was taking occasional sips of his coffee. One of the men saw the redhead approaching and held out a bowl of freshly ladled stew for him.

"Who's the cook tonight?" Clancy slowly took the bowl, eyeing the steaming hot content with a bit of apprehension. He looked up to accept the loaf of bread offered with the stew.

"Elias. If we let Mig cook again, someone may actually die."

"Oh, sweet mercies," the redhead responded gratefully, lifting the bread and bowl in an exaggerated prayer. 

"I heard that!" yelled Mig from the back, prompting a roar of laughter from the rest of the group. "You guys just don't have taste."

"After eating your cooking, nobody will," Clancy shot back with a grin, taking his usual seat beside Alucard by the fire. The vampire smiled kindly at him, sipping his coffee languidly in silence. Clancy wasted no time in wolfing down his stew. The lightly toasted rye bread went really well with the thick stew. He listened to the random chatters around him while he ate, occasionally piping in and accepting offered additional portions of food. There was probably only a bowl or two of the stew left in the pot when they finally slowed down on the food. Clancy blew on his steaming coffee before he took a sip, sighing in satisfaction when the warmth washed down his throat to his belly. After he went to get a refill, he finally turned to regard Alucard’s calm figure. “So what was it that you wanted to discuss?” 

The vampire was a picture of elegance; even as he sat on a worn, foldable stool that had seen better days, his appearance remained immaculate. The steel mug in his hand was still half full when he set it down on a nearby crate. Even with his glamour present, his blue eyes still managed to glow. “Before that, I heard from Lars that some of the Brotherhood men accosted the civilians.” Alucard raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the redhead, “And you engaged them.” It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

Clancy shot Lars a look that the latter only responded with a guilty shrug. “Yeah, I did, but they were dicks. They acted like they were the new hot shit in town, somebody's got to kick them off their pedestal,” Clancy said stubbornly as Alucard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t mind you putting them in their places. I have no love for them either,” Alucard allowed, pausing as if he thought of something unpleasant. “But while I can look over this transgression, my father cannot. With his temper, he only needed one reason to pick a fight with them, and that can be... _messy_ ,” he reasoned; the implied meaning was heavy in that last word. 

“Can’t you talk to your dad?” asked someone from Clancy’s left.

Alucard snorted with a wry smile, “I can talk to him but he doesn’t always listen. His hatred for the Brotherhood can overpower reason.” He shook his head tiredly, “No, it’s better if I don’t have to in the first place. So I would very much appreciate it if everyone can avoid any confrontation with the Brotherhood men. If they give you any more trouble, come to me. I will talk to their leader.”

“Speaking of your dad, didn’t he come with you?” Clancy looked around the area. He thought the Dragon would be lingering around where his son was.

Alucard’s face morphed into an odd mixture of pride and exasperation. “He went investigating,” his voice sounded lost in wonder the more he spoke. “ _Alone. Outside_ the city.”

That netted a general look of alarm from everyone present and Clancy tried very hard to keep his expression in check. “Outside the city?” Mental images of the Prince of Darkness raining havoc on the unsuspecting human populace wasn’t helping his anxiety any. “Every road and bridge leading out of the city were destroyed, either by the infected or the military. The city’s cut-off from the outside world thanks to this outbreak.”

“Remember the train tracks underneath this city? My father suspects there are routes that lead outside the city borders. Considering Satan's acolytes were highly-ranked in their organisations, the companies responsible for this plague were big enough to have connections on the outside. They could possibly have demons installed among their staff as well," Alucard’s jaw tightened in distress as he spoke, clearly the idea of demons amidst the unsuspecting humans bothered him. "I would have gone to investigate this sooner but my involvement could put my connections at risk." He looked at the faces around him. "My father has no such reservation. With his reputation, they can't link him to anyone, not before he thoroughly destroys them."

 _Thoroughly destroyed._ Clancy was again reminded of the monster roasted to ashes in a pillar of fire. It was not a comforting thought. 

"What is there to guarantee that he won't...uhh...continue on his old ways?" asked Elias, who was sitting across Clancy, and the others murmured their similar concerns. Of course, after an effortless power display as terrifying as _that_ , it was only logical the concern would be there.

“I know you all grew up knowing horrifying stories of the Prince of Darkness. A month ago, I would have shared your concerns,” despite the sombre acknowledgement, Alucard’s lips tugged upwards into a placating smile. "But my father had already exhausted his revenge. The general population no longer interests him. Before he left, he promised me he would be discreet, and of all his strongest qualities, my father is a man of his word."

That conviction made Clancy think back to their last meeting. Dracul was brutally honest when he didn’t need to be. People usually lie to gain something they couldn’t get via the right channel. The Dragon was the kind of person who could easily get whatever he wanted regardless, so lying would serve him no purpose. Furthermore, the way he valued Alucard’s interest and happiness above all else spoke volumes about his love for his son and how important Alucard was to him. Call him optimistic but Clancy believed whole-heartedly that Dracul would never do anything that could jeopardise his relationship with his son.

“The underground tunnels are filled with gas anyway. If that thing was what mutated from being exposed to the infection, I’m afraid what else could be down there.”

“Do you think those things are why the city’s cut off? Shit, can we even take on something like that on our own?” 

The men posed valid questions but Clancy couldn't think of anything they could do to address them at the moment. They were barely scraping by trying to keep everyone from being infected. “There’s not a thing we can do about it anyway,” he said before the panic escalated, feeling suddenly drained the more he thought about the situation. “We just have to hope Dracul finds something to help end this plague. With this place getting more crowded each day I'm not sure we can keep everyone in line for long."

"Heard they're asking around," Lars reported, "The Brotherhood; they're recruiting people into the Order and they don't seem to care who they bring in."

"Unfortunately, my father already had the same offer extended to him," Alucard said, shaking his hand with a wry smile. " _Him_ of all people."

Everyone stared at him in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. "And the other guy is still alive?"

"Alive _and_ unscathed," the vampire conceded as he slumped in his seat, looking like he just gained a hundred years. "They found out that my father was a knight of the Brotherhood but lacked the exact details. Whether they suspect I was as well, I cannot be certain nor does it concern me,” he added with an uncaring shrug before his eyes hardened. “Be vigilant. If any of them came to ask you for any information, tell them nothing. We don't want them to have materials to start a commotion. Relay the warning to those who aren't here. "

A quiet murmur went around the group before Lars stood up. “You can count on us. I can have my squad track their movements as a precaution,” he said, looking at Clancy for feedback. 

The redhead nodded. It would be helpful to stay a step ahead to avoid unnecessary stress. "Yeah, with the way their ranks being unpredictable now, we can't tell what they'll do, so it'll be good to have an upper hand." 

Alucard inclined his head in agreement before he let out a dry smile, "I guess I'm glad my father isn't here. As much as I appreciate his exercise in perseverance, I would rather not have them tempt his wrath." He looked at his lap, eyebrows drawn. "My father...is very driven by emotions. While he commands immense power, his heart is fragile. It took him a long time to remember how to be human again, I refuse to lose that progress to petty old grudges.”

Clancy silently watched the way Alucard’s expression softened. It seemed Dracul wasn’t the only one who felt protective of his son. The younger vampire had always shown compassion for humanity but the way he behaved around his father spoke of a deeper affection. He recalled how Alucard delegated every interaction around the Dragon, letting his father find his bearings at his own pace. Whenever Dracul appeared to withdraw into himself, Alucard was there to offer him comfort and ease his concerns. The redhead wondered if the older vampire noticed what his son was doing. Even this meeting was mainly about how to contain any possible threat from reaching the Dragon.

From what Clancy could see, the men seemed to notice it too. When Alucard trusted the group with his true identity, Clancy was both astonished and warmed at how they easily accepted their vampire ally as if he was already one of their own. Their group had always been close—some even since their forefathers—that they were basically family, so the redhead knew he could count on everyone to maintain secrecy. Alucard was kind, but he was not one who let people get too close to him. Being an immortal who had experienced the death of everyone he held dear, the redhead understood his reluctance of getting attached. For the time being Alucard would have them but humans grow old and die, and Clancy knew that loneliness would always be his miserable companion once they were gone.

But now Alucard had Dracul, who was as eternal and as unchanging he was, and Clancy very fiercely wanted to protect that. For Alucard's sake, they would willingly extend their alliance to the Dragon.

Feeling a surge of determination and pride curling in his chest, Clancy turned to face Alucard. “I’ll go with you the next time you go talk to them."

The vampire blinked in surprise at the sudden declaration before he raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Just so you can be more liberal with your threats?" 

"Yeah, Clancy swears like an alkie grandpa when he's mad!" Mig piped up helpfully. Clancy felt his cheeks flush as the rest of the men roared in laughter. Everyone knew his tongue would start to loosen when he lost his temper. It was something like a reflex with him, and personally the redhead felt using strong language was tamer than resorting to physical altercations.

Not to say that strong language _wouldn't_ resort to possible blows anyway. 

Clancy held his hands up placatingly as the laughter died down. “Fine, I'll refrain from using a few choice words but there’s no way I’ll sit back when they try to recruit _my_ family.”

Alucard narrowed his eyes in suspicion but eventually relented to the suggestion. "Very well. It will be useful to have a representative of the team present. I'm just worried about distracting my father during those talks."

"How opposed is he of hunting? He can join us on patrols," Lars suggested, surprising everyone. "What? He saved our hides back there when the monster spotted us. He didn't have to, but he did." 

Clancy was stunned by the revelation. Everyone was still a bit skittish about the Dragon that they tried to avoid contact whenever possible. Even having had the most contact with the vampire lord left Clancy still feeling apprehensive around him. However, he had to thank Lars for putting everything into perspective.

Dracul _did_ save them. Aside from using his intimidating reputation to remain distant, Dracul never directly threatened to cause them harm. Even Carmen—his sister who was more attuned to the spiritual—showed no concern in the presence of the Prince of Darkness. Perhaps he should reevaluate his opinions and reconsider Alucard's glowing confidence in his father's character.

"I agree with Lars. He did clear the area of the poison gas." The tentative murmurs of agreement that came after seemed to gain momentum. Clancy could only watch how the hesitance slowly turned to excitement as each of the men gradually came on board with the idea of watching the vampire lord in action.

“Imagine not having to deal with the infection anymore."

"He could show us some cool moves!"

Clancy rubbed his temples with a soft sigh when the conversations became even more outrageous as the excitement level rose. He was one of the youngest in their group but his men could behave like teenagers at times. Ordinary humans couldn’t truly fathom the scale of terror Dracul exuded—not in the way his line could—so he would allow it as long as they didn’t overstep their boundaries and piss the moody vampire lord off. He wholeheartedly wasn’t keen to be on the Dragon’s unsavoury side. 

"Do you think we'll find big hordes like last time again?"

“Most likely. There seems to be no shortage of the infected out there.”

“What if more of those mutated monsters come out to the surface?"

"If they do, they won't be a problem for my father," Alucard assured with a hint of dry amusement in his voice, possibly humoured by their enthusiasm. "He will probably enjoy the chance to work out his frustration if he doesn't get to deal as much damage as he would like to on the parties responsible for this genocide." The lightness in his voice turned sombre as he looked at the faces around him. "I know I am asking too much of you. It isn't easy to ignore who my father is so I won't fault you for your reluctance."

Even if the fear of Dracul's reputation alone was enough reason for desertion, something in Clancy's heart ached to think that Alucard outright expected rejection from them. He straightened his back and levelled his gaze on the vampire. "Trevor, in all my years of knowing you, I know you'd never intentionally put us in harm's way. You wouldn't have allowed your father into our midst if you didn't trust him. You judge and protect with equal conviction, and you have never given us any reason to believe otherwise," said the redhead as he motioned towards their gathered comrades. "No matter what you decide, you have our full support," he said as he was met with murmurs of agreement.

A genuine smile spread across Alucard's lips at the assurance and his shoulders sagged noticeably in relief. He looked at each face around him, his smile wistful and gentle. "It feels like I haven't been able to say it enough, but I'm forever fortunate to have met all of you. Thank you."

Clancy felt warmth curled in his chest. "Maybe not Mig though. He's a hazard." 

"That's harsh, man," said man moaned in mock hurt as the group laughed in good humour. Clancy grinned as Alucard helpfully soothed the man's wounded pride.

Yeah, he would protect this for as long as he could. 

* * *

Dracul watched the twisted, inhuman form at his feet with a dispassionate glare. He had been right about the acolytes installing demons inside their organisation. He found one of said demons masqueraded as one of the higher-ranked employees but it was only a henchman implanted to foresee the company’s business dealings. His lips curled in distaste as he stepped over the mangled body to study the wide, flickering screen on the wall. 

It showed him devastating plans of biochemical warfare that the company was undoubtedly working in secret behind the front of a pharmaceutical company. He read the details with a frown; some terms were alien to him that he lamented his son's absence. He had been right to suspect the network's existence. One of the lines was connected directly to a subsidiary of Bioquimek's, undoubtedly the one responsible for propagating transportation between cities. They had ceased operation after the outbreak and the tunnels were sealed off, though that was hardly a problem for someone who could turn intangible like him. It took the vampire lord no time at all to track down where they stored their supplies of antidote, though seeing the large supplies of it made him uneasy. 

Dracul scanned the large office before stalking towards a row of grey metal cabinets where he learned humans usually liked to keep important documents in. Browsing through the many nondescript folders in every drawer, Dracul pulled out a few folders and flicked through them for things he could bring back to his son's attention. The more he learned about the company, the deeper his distaste of it became.

He had always known that Bioquimek corporation was responsible for the infection but he didn't think their reach would be so vast. They currently held the market power for supplying half of the world's medical consumption. Apart from Satan's intent of defeating him in his own turf, Castlevania city was used as a testing ground for further destruction. They had planned to release the poison after Satan took over the city, spreading his corruption and influence throughout the realm. 

Reading through a particularly thick folder, he found dossiers of the company colluding with Bernhard Metal LTD. The familiar name of the company made the vampire lord frown; he didn’t think the family had any surviving descendant with how the castle was pretty much abandoned after Victor von Frankenstein, and later Carmilla, took over. As he continued to peruse the documents, he found alarming information about Bioquimek and Bernhard using their combined influences to supply chemical weapons to every group and factions around the world, possibly to spread the infection on a larger scale, making it easier to sow conflict and chaos between nations.

 _The Bernhards never learned after the last time their ancestors dabbled with demonic entities,_ Dracul thought ruefully as he tucked the relevant documents into his coat. He had what he came for, and aside from the demon henchman that thought it could take on the Prince of Darkness, he had honoured his promise to Alucard. The demon didn't have the time to raise the alarm before Dracul struck it down with a quick slash of his blood whip, the attack was so strong and sharp it sliced through flesh and bone like a thin blade. Black blood still oozed lazily out of the stump where its head should have been, the majority of it pooled underneath its mangled body. He didn't even remember seeing where the head had rolled to, being how quickly he dispatched it.

Dracul was turning to leave when his ears caught the sounds of voices coming his way. Their heartbeats sounded human and they didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He wondered if the employees knew about the nature of their superiors but they would undeniably suspect something from the state of the room and the corpse rotting on the sleek, white tile if he were to leave as it was. Summoning his chaos gauntlets, Dracul channeled a controlled energy into his fists and shot fireballs at the machines. The explosion of fire, metal, and glass was deafening—so powerful that the building shook from it—as the room caught fire in an instant with the papers and furniture feeding the flames. The broken windows fed oxygen into the growing inferno as it engulfed the corpse like a hungry beast. He could feel the building groaning under his feet; his chaos power was eating into the concrete. The heat and fire didn't bother Dracul as he stood amidst the destruction, watching as the flame gradually ate away at the incriminating evidence while listening to the terrified screaming and fleeing footsteps behind the door while the alarm calling for evacuation blared throughout the building. 

Satisfied that they couldn't recover anything from the scene, Dracul easily burst into mist and flew out of the window into the cool, night sky unnoticed. After a short flight over the city, deeming he had set enough distance between him and the commotion, the vampire lord silently slipped into a vacant alleyway and returned to his solid form. He felt a sense of peace in the shadow, where the loud noises of the busy streets didn’t quite reach. Already he could hear the sirens of the emergency response teams rushing past his location towards the burning building in the other district. Dracul waited a moment for things to quiet down before he moved. Rubbing the enchanted ring around his finger—making sure the glamour was in place—he stepped out of the alley into the busy streets. 

The few men and women walking nearby glanced at him, startled and slightly curious by his sudden appearance but the interest was fleeting. Most of them didn’t even realise he was there, so engrossed they were with the devices in their palms. Emboldened, the vampire lord joined the traffic heading towards the heart of the city, easily blending amongst the oblivious civilians. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of people still walking about in the streets. He narrowed his eyes at the garish bright lights when he passed the rows of shops still operating in the late hour, the numbers ‘24/7’ were proudly displayed on most of their windows and signboards.

 _Humans no longer feared the night_ , Dracul learnt that from Alucard during their earlier excursions into the city together. His son told him how cities never sleep; even as the night grew darker and colder, humans still roamed the streets of large cities as they did during the day. He could see the same rule applied to this city. Built on the side of the vast body of water that surrounded the city of Castlevania, it boasted a newer, more modern design, although he could see the obvious inspiration in some of the bordering architectures. Dracul found it mildly fascinating that similar aesthetics were echoed in the underground railway system.

 _“...infection. As of today, it has been four weeks and two days since the fall of Castlevania city. New footage from the aerial surveillance shows...”_

He stopped in his tracks when an electronics shop nearby had the news broadcasted via multiple televisions mounted at its window, most likely to attract the attention of a curious passerby. A group of three older gentlemen in particular was aptly glued to the screens, loitering in front of the shop to watch the broadcast. Dracul slowly approached the shop to listen to the broadcast but was careful to keep his distance so as not to attract their attention. The news was showing footage of the abandoned city streets littered with bodies and crumbling architecture. The worst destruction was a large crater in the middle of the business district, which was the focus of the latest news. 

_“...the tremors last night were believed to originate from the east of the city. Following the quake, witnesses reported seeing a bright, orange light that lasted for as long as five minutes, despite the city having been cut off from the power grid over two weeks ago. There has been no report of any attack launched by the armed forces to explain the incident. City development speculated it may be due to damages done to the city’s underground pipelines or local power generators. When asked if there are possible survivors still in the city, the security forces refused to comment. According to city records, over three thousand people are confirmed dead while eight hundred and thirty six are still unaccounted for since the outbreak.”_

“Heh, the government is keeping the lid on everything so the media has no choice but to sell the same shit every day,” one of the old men said to the others, shaking his head in disgust. “Who are they trying to fool? That bloody explosion ain't no pipeline.”

His friend grunted in agreement. “I live in the apartment complex by the bay area. That pillar of fire woke my whole neighbourhood up. Swore it felt like the world was ending.”

“I heard rumours that there are still survivors stuck in the city,” said the third, "Not sure if anyone can last that long with the city filled with monsters.”

“Besides, don’t you think the military would have gone in to save them if there are still survivors?” the second man pointed out. 

“Do you think the government cares about them? Who do you think caused this whole mess?” the first man hissed. “This outbreak is a bioweapon test.”

Dracul scowled at the thought of a kingdom willingly abandoning its citizens. Mankind never did change their selfish nature throughout the eras.

“I heard about that too. It explains why the government isn't mobilising the army to destroy the city. They must want to retrieve... _something_. The survivors—if there’s any—are probably left for dead to keep this a secret.”

“The city’s a dead zone. They say the special unit fitted to deal with the monsters occasionally enters the city to kill monsters and humans alike.” 

His first encounter with said unit proved that to be true. He looked human enough, had even conversed with them, but they still chose to attack him. The speculation about their unwillingness to raze the city to the ground had its merits, although the vampire lord was more inclined to think that they simply didn’t have the capacity to. Besides the large number of the infected, there were still a lot of demons that remained.

“Castlevania city has a really dark history, it won’t surprise me that this outbreak wakes up its own monsters.”

"If that happens, I doubt the military can hold all of them off." 

“Don't say that,” the third man said with an audible shudder. “We're still so close to the city. If they can't contain the spread, we'll be done for.” 

The murmurs afterwards were of random, mundane topics the vampire lord had no interest in. Feeling a sudden urge to find Castlevania city on the surface, Dracul traced his way back in the direction he knew the city was located. He joined the walking pedestrians heading the same direction, taking note of each signboard he passed by to catalogue his path. He was hardly paying much attention to the activities around him before he found himself in a small park by the seaside. The smell of damp leaves and salt filled the air, briefly reminding him of a memory long forgotten. Dracul walked to the edge of the park, uncaring of how the salty breeze blew his hair out of his face for he found what he was searching for. The silhouette of Castlevania city stood ominously in the far distance, the absence of illumination made it look like a giant shadow devoid of life. The appearance was unsettlingly reminiscent of his old castle ruin. Dracul let his gaze sweep over the scene before his eyes fell on the bridge. 

The bridge that connected the two cities was heavily barricaded and guarded by the security forces. Men in distinct uniforms were gathered at various points surrounding the bridge. Even the immediate area had been deserted and cordoned off due to fear of the infection reaching this city. The amount of armed forces stationed at the barricade was paltry in comparison to the large manpower that once laid siege upon his castle, though the technological advancements in weaponry easily made up for their smaller number. The modern war machines being small made them easier to maneuver between the tight building spaces. The warrior in him was curious of how much damage they could deal. The mechanical suits he fought before had been interesting, though not significant enough to pose much of a challenge.

Dracul slightly regretted promising his son that he would behave. 

Lingering to cast a final look at the dark shape of Castlevania, the Dragon spun on his heels and began to walk out of the park. The air went back into smelling of stone and sweat as the population increased the closer he came to the center of the city. It was noisier too, with more sounds of machinery and life around him. He could even still hear the sirens blaring from the burning building a few blocks away. Deciding to avoid the commotion, he joined the group of pedestrians waiting to cross the road nearby. On his way there he saw posters and signs of medical facilities offering refuge and antidotes for the plague, masquerading Bioquimek's corporation as a compassionate brand during times of tragedy. What made him stop was a small flier that called for a blood donation drive at a nearby medical facility.

_Trevor had been saying he is running out._

As much as Dracul wouldn’t admit it, the thought of his son abstaining from consuming human blood for centuries bothered him. Surviving on livestock blood might be able to sustain lesser vampires but Alucard was _his_ son and their shared blood called for stronger life force as fuel. Dracul didn’t have much care about the modern civilisation, but if the fact that mankind had established these ‘blood bank’ facilities allowed his son to feed properly, he was willing to give it a chance. With that in mind, Dracul studied the flier and the map provided more intently. It was in the opposite direction of where he was originally headed, though it wasn’t too far from the nearest underground network. He could easily make quick trips between the cities if Alucard needed to resupply. Satisfied with the plan, the vampire lord busied himself observing the sluggish traffic before the sense of being watched made him turn. Several ladies in the crowd were shooting him secret, interested glances. He also noticed several of the men throwing envious looks his way.

“Hey, look at that guy.” Someone was whispering softly. Unfortunately for them, the Dragon had a very keen hearing. He easily picked out that the conversation came from three women. They looked quite young though he couldn’t really tell. He hadn’t exactly been around ordinary humans other than burly men vying for his demise for over a millenia.

"He’s cute."

"Right? God, how can a man so scruffy look so cute?" 

_‘Scruffy’?_ Admittedly, his glamour was a bit rough with days-old stubble peppering his jaw but he took care to at least dress smartly. He was clothed in fine black suit as per his son's insistence, with a deep red silk shirt underneath. Dracul glanced down balefully at how his shirt was generously left unbuttoned, showing an impressive expanse of his pale, muscular chest. If it were up to him, he would have foregone the shirt altogether, though now he understood why Alucard threw teasing jabs about his dressing habits. He could already see his son giving him those smug smirks whenever he won an argument. 

_Our son has your sharp wit, Marie._

"He has a ring on." The voice sounded oddly longing for reasons Dracul couldn't quite place. 

"Pfft, you and your penchant for mature men."

“Well, can you blame me with _that_ view right there?”

"He's _big_." The giggles accompanying that comment made Dracul frown. As the Prince of Darkness, many of his servants coveted his affection so he was used to the hungry looks. Praises over his physical traits were not uncommon either, though they were always done in a way that wasn't so... _objectifying_.

The sudden stench of alcohol distracted the vampire lord from his train of thought. A raggedly group of young men stumbled towards the crossing to join the wait, and he didn’t need his keen sense of smell to know they were intoxicated. Four men in charcoal black suits were escorting the group, indicating that the drunken youths were of influential families. It reminded him of the nobles he used to see in his younger days; the social hierarchy made more apparent by how lavishly they were clothed. It mattered little though, Dracul was never fond of drunkards; they always smelled foul, were ill-mannered, and claimed no responsibilities over their actions. The crowd around him shifted to give the group a wide berth, conveniently nudging him closer to the gossiping group of girls. Dracul pretended not to notice the panicked, wide-eyed looks on their faces when he stepped closer.

"Oh my God, he looks even better up-close!"

Considering the situation, Dracul was at least pleased to know his glamour still held at close range. Even when he wanted the spell to hold, his dark power was too volatile to coexist with other forces, often wearing down enchantments after a time. He remembered how it devoured his light and shadow medallions, rendering them into nothing more than useless ornaments. The reminder of chaos living inside him meant he had to keep himself in check at all times. He wondered if Alucard could sense his constant struggle because his son was very careful in delegating his social interactions. 

_He’s probably growing restless the longer I’m here._

“Hey, ladies. Where are you going?” 

One of the drunks, an incredibly unimpressive-looking young man, probably in his mid-twenties, decked in expensive clothes and jewellery—the typical signs of a spoiled brat parading his family’s fortune—sidled closer to the group of girls, not caring that he was invading Dracul’s space, much to the vampire’s annoyance. His breath reeked strongly of alcohol and bile, mixed with the overbearing stench of artificial fragrance as he—hilariously—attempted to sound charming while he slurred, “If you don’t have plans tonight, why not join us? We can show you a good time.” His offer was backed by hoots and cheers from his equally drunk companions. Dracul resisted the urge to roll his eyes, slightly wishing he had gone elsewhere. He had seen enough nobles making fools of themselves in his long lifetime. The vampire looked around him to see that none of the other pedestrians bothered to intervene, preferring to bury their noses into their electronics than getting involved with the pathetic display of courtship. The four men in suits that accompanied the drunks remained silent and unaffected, which told him that they were used to their masters' insufferable whims. 

The women—predictably—weren’t impressed, and they were vocal about their disgust. “Ugh, gross! Go away.” The vampire found no fault in their reaction, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in their shared distaste.

“Ladies, don’t be like that.” The thick-skulled idiot wasn't deterred by the rebuff, not that anyone with such a shallow sensibility would. Dracul scanned around to see if he could escape the ensuing drama just as the fool came close enough to bump against the vampire and grabbed one of the girls by the wrist. “Lemme buy you a drink, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman, after all,” he promised, smiling so wide it was more of a predatory grin. 

Dracul curled his upper lip at the stench of the man’s overbearing insolence. He was a creature of the night yet even he smelled better by a large margin. 

“Get off me, creep!”

The man stumbled back after the sound of a resounding slap, cradling his cheek with a sharp hiss. Dracul barely noted the stifled gasps around him, his eyes were on the young woman who still had her hand up from the slap. 

“You fucking bitch!” Pain seemed to erase all the good mood in the man’s demeanor as his eyes sharpened. “Don’t you know who I am?” His guards sprang to his side while his posse gathered behind him menacingly, making the girl cower. “I’m Jason Bernhard, heir of Bernhard Industries. My family owns this goddamn city and nobody says no to me!” he snarled and lunged to grab the girl again. The girl screamed and her friends followed suit, scrambling to pull their friend from his clutch.

“Let me go!” the girl shrieked in terror, whimpering in pain when he twisted her arm. “You’re hurting me!”

"Then you should've come with me when I told you the first time!" Jason sneered, dragging the girl to him.

“Let her go!” Her friends came to her aid, trying to pull and hit at his arm at the same time, which only furthered the arrogant heir’s anger. He shoved the other women away and continued to tug at the sobbing girl before a strong hand gripped his wrist in a steely grip. All sounds ceased immediately when Dracul towered over the two, his dark visage alone was a commanding presence.

The vampire lord looked between the two calmly; the girl looked back at him with hope in her watery eyes while Jason looked at him confused and irritated. 

“Hey, man,” he started, lifting his head to sniff haughtily at the Dragon. “This isn’t your business—”

“Did you not hear?” the vampire interrupted with a calm and quiet tone, “She has demanded that you leave her be.” Before anyone could respond, Dracul squeezed his fist and everyone heard the wrist _crunched_ within his grip _._ Jason’s face whitened as his jaw and grip went slack, releasing the girl. Stunned, she remained in her spot until Dracul's broad back blocked her view. The vampire glared down at the younger man before opening his grip, letting the latter land ungracefully on his behind. 

"Jason!" His friends rushed to pull him up while the bodyguards stood between him and the Dragon. 

"Dude, are you okay?"

"H...hand...my hand," Jason whimpered in shock and disbelief as he cradled his limp hand, the wrist was twisted in an odd shape and was beginning to bruise. He looked up at the Dragon, the shock wore off into anger as he screamed, spittle spraying, "You bastard! You broke my hand!" 

Dracul didn't even blink. "Keep barking and I will break the other one." He took in the way the guards instantly circled him, deeming him a threat to their master. None of the bystanders moved to intervene still, watching the event unfold with cautious interest. Dracul could only assume they were intimidated by Bernhard's reputation. _So much for keeping to the shadows._ "If you intend to attack me then know that I’ve no particular preference in whose bones to break next.”

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots! Beat him up!” Jason screamed at his guards, face red in anger. “Break every bone in his body!”

The crowd of pedestrians dispersed in a panic when the guards foolishly rushed at the Dragon with their fists. Dracul side-stepped the first guard, hooking his fingers under the man’s collar and used the momentum to swing him into his comrade’s path. The two collided with a meaty thump, collapsing to the pavement in a heap of pained groans. The feat was so quick that everyone only stared at the scene in varying degrees of shock and confusion. Dracul didn’t stop, already moving to engage the next guard. The man barely knew what hit him before he too fell to the ground, unconscious.

“Watch out!”

Dracul spun around at the warning and held his arm up in reflex just as something hard slammed against him, hard enough that he registered the pain throughout his forearm. Were he still human, the blow would’ve cracked his skull. He lowered his arm to see the last guard was looking at him with wide eyes, not expecting the vampire to respond as quickly as he did. Dracul noted the rod in the man’s hand; it appeared to be some kind of a club made of metal wrapped in black leather. The shock didn’t last long and the guard swung the rod down again and again—each more desperately than before—forcing Dracul to use his arm and shoulder as shield. Each successful hit seemed to encourage Jason and his goons as their taunts became louder. 

“Yeah, fuck him up!” Jason yelled, a feverish frenzy alighting his eyes. “Nobody messes with me and gets away with it!” The onlookers were mortified by the brutality, yelling for the guard to stop his assault. 

“Hey, stop! Are you trying to kill him?!”

“Call the cops!” 

“The cops won’t do shit!” Jason yelled at the crowd. “Get involved and you’ll get what he gets!” That threat was enough to drown the protests and halt any attempt to help. “Yeah, thought so!” He turned to the guard. “Break his arm.” 

Spurred by the cheering and adrenaline, the guard doubled on his effort and swung the club down against the vampire’s arm. Dracul was ready for it though, swinging his arm to strike back against the club. They connected with a metallic clang and a sensation of a small explosion burst from the impact, making everyone in the nearby vicinity flinch. The guard stumbled back, the metal rod in his hand was bent out of shape.

“What the—”

“My turn,” Dracul growled as he punched the guard in the ribs, so hard that the sound of bones snapping was audible in the brief silence. The man fell instantly, groaning in pain and clutching at his broken ribs. 

“Im...impossible!”

The vampire looked over to where Jason and his goons were gathered, gawking at how efficiently a seemingly ordinary, middle-aged man put down four trained guards in just a few hits.

"W-who the fuck are you?" Jason blurted, his previous bravado now replaced by fear. "He hit you with a steel baton, how are you still standing?"

"A little late for questions now, don't you think?" Dracul asked, flexing his fists as he stalked towards the group. They scrambled backwards, nearly sobbing in terror when the Dragon towered over them, not that it was unexpected; without the shield of bodyguards and family wealth, they were just a bunch of idiotic youths, afterall. 

Jason held his good hand up in a panic. "S-stop! How much do you want? I'll pay you!" 

Dracul bared his teeth in a predatory sneer. "I don't want your riches, Little Bernhard." The rich liked to think they could solve everything with material possessions; using their wealth to pay their way out of every predicament. People like those always irked him to no end. If it weren’t for his promise to Alucard, he wouldn’t hesitate to finish the job. Scowling, the vampire lord nodded at the guards still pitifully writhing on the sidewalk. "Gather your ilk and leave. If you dare to show your face in front of me again, you won't find me so generous," he growled, deep and full of promise. It took a few minutes for the group to gather their wits and flee the scene with the injured limping and stumbling haphazardly in their haste. 

Satisfied when they were out of sight, Dracul turned back to the crossing. He didn't expect to be welcomed by a small, applauding crowd. The vampire stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing warily to note the beaming faces and murmurs of approval around him. The warm welcome he was getting only cemented his theory of the Bernhards being unpopular with the people.

Ironic, considering he wasn’t exactly the glowing advocate of humanity either.

A timid touch on his sleeve dragged his attention away from the crowd to find the young woman from before. She looked up to him with a teary, grateful smile. Her eyes were red, though her arm looked worse; the red handprint glared angrily on her fair skin. No doubt the bruise would be impressive in a few days.

“Thank you, sir.” She still seemed a little shaken from the ordeal but having her friends around seemed to help calm her nerves. “I can't imagine what would happen if you didn’t step in.” 

“Best not dwell on it then,” the Dragon shrugged; he wouldn’t have meddled either if the idiot’s antics didn’t annoy him so much. He paused to study the three. “There will always be unsavoury men like those. Take care to hit them harder next time.” Oddly that seemed to make the girls laugh. He could feel them becoming more relaxed around him.

“He must have a permanent handprint on his face now from how hard Yana slapped him,” her friend said with a soft laugh. 

The other friend smiled proudly. “That would be an improvement. He should thank Yana for it.”

“Hush.” Said young woman flushed under the vampire’s intense gaze. “A-are you hurt?” she asked, motioning towards his arm. 

Dracul waved her concern off. “I’m fine. You should worry about yours," he said, nodding at her bruised arm. 

The young woman looked unconvinced. “You were hit pretty hard, you should at least have your arm checked. The nearest hospital is just a few streets from here. We can go together?” she suggested, her voice hopeful. “Please, let me repay your kindness. It won’t be right if I let you go untreated. My sister is a doctor.”

The vampire perked up slightly at the unexpected outcome. He _was_ on his way to the medical facility. He had planned on sneaking in but having a connection on the inside would definitely make for a more lasting arrangement. Surely Alucard would commend this design. He looked at the hopeful faces around him and slowly inclined his head. “...If you insist. Lead the way.”

* * *

_*chapter art*_


	4. Chapter 4

Paul rubbed his eyes tiredly. Reading with the help of a small lantern wasn't ideal but no matter how many he lit, it was still oppressively gloomy inside the gaping cavern. It was as if the stones underneath the city absorbed the light and warmth from the flames. He could feel the unnatural chill right through his bones, despite the thick layers of armour he wore. Paul wondered if it had always been this cold in the underground refuge. Considering the location, he suspected the supernatural influence played a part in skewing with the element.

He had been studying the city map since morning and made notes of the more active infected areas they found in the past week. His group had traveled to the far edges of the city to find a safe way out. Skirmishes with the military and city police blocking the borders, in addition to battling the infected hordes on a daily basis had vastly declined their numbers. He had followed Victor Belmont into the city since before the chaos even started but now he could count the men who actually knew Victor Belmont with one hand. Most of the original Brotherhood members— _they were already a small group_ —had fallen in those battles or to the plague. The Brotherhood had some active members outside the city but with the communication gone dark, they had no choice but to fend for themselves.

That made adding to their numbers into one of the more significant efforts for their continued survival. He wasn't totally on board with the idea but Richard had been insistent, and he couldn't fault the man from trying. The few people they managed to recruit had little to no experience in combat, and while they really wanted to help out, Paul couldn’t help but feel like he was leading them to their deaths. 

Compared to them, the mercenaries that managed this settlement were more prepared and skilled. He had gone around the camp earlier and was honestly impressed at how the mercenaries took over the security and management operations since Victor’s absence, as if they were already prepared for it. The thought of them predicting the Brotherhood’s fall in the city unsettled him, but they had no luxury in choosing their allies at times like these. At least they were around to pick up where Victor had left off, and kept the survivors safe. He was even amazed they managed to have their tents set up so quickly after the rescue, ensuring that everyone had a place to rest in the safety of the encampment. 

_They're young yet their operation speaks of experience. They must have had guidance._

He couldn’t help but to let his thoughts wander to Gabriel. The way that man carried himself spoke of someone who knew of the Brotherhood intimately. Considering his age and how his son shared his aptitude, Gabriel had probably been in the Brotherhood longer than him, thus he was slightly shocked by the other man's blatant resentment when presented with the Brotherhood's dogmatic constitutions and principles. The man practically spat and hissed at him like a scorned, feral beast when he brought the Order up. 

_“The Brotherhood saw it more fit to let my wife be murdered than trying to stop it, just to further their own scheme.”_

Paul had only been in the Brotherhood for over a decade yet he had seen too many believers who lost their faiths when faced with traumatic experiences. Gabriel’s loss made him resent the Brotherhood of Light, and he found himself empathising with the man. Paul wouldn’t deny that every organisation had their own tenets, and the Brotherhood of Light’s wasn’t as virtuous as most believed it to be. 

Even one who was so synonymous with the Brotherhood of Light; Victor Belmont, didn’t fully agree with their ancient orthodox values. He couldn’t remember when the man started to openly challenge the old Order, questioning their intentions and integrity when there was an obvious disparity of equality in their methods of conduct. The higher Victor climbed through the Brotherhood ranks, the more vocal he became about changing the Brotherhood into something that could look beyond the usual prejudices—past the perceived black and white—making as many enemies as he did friends. He wanted to believe they were capable of doing better. 

The church obviously didn't see the need. They and the Brotherhood that was still loyal to the old ways treated their actions as the means to an end, even if it meant sacrificing the innocents was necessary to meet their goals.

“You’ve left me with quite the responsibility, my friend.” Paul didn’t know why Victor entrusted him to helm the group in his absence. He sorely wished he could ask Victor for guidance. He slightly regretted the fact that Victor sent the few Brotherhood men with him away to search for survivors. No one even knew how he died or who was with him when he did. The last anyone saw of Victor was when he headed out of the refuge with an unknown man in tow. Was he an enemy or an ally? Did Victor deliberately send everyone away to keep the man's identity a secret? 

In all the years Paul had known him, he had always known Victor to be a private man. He never spoke of his illustrious bloodline, preferring to be treated the same as any other Brotherhood members. His secretive behaviour wasn't out of the ordinary but Paul has a gut feeling that whatever secret Victor kept could be a dangerous one. 

Dangerous enough to cost him his life. 

Paul sighed and decided to take a break and make himself a cup of tea. Being he was often swamped with work, he rarely found time to sit down for a decent meal. Making time for tea helped calm his nerves and allowed him to step back from his stressful role. It gave him an excuse to forget about the hectic world they were in, even if for a moment. 

“Those bastards!”

Paul had just taken a careful sip of the herbal concoction when Richard stormed angrily into the tent, almost knocking over a rickety stool by the entrance. Withholding another weary sigh, he wondered if it was even wise to ask. The younger man was a fine warrior but his temper left a lot to be desired at times. ”Is there a problem?”

Richard turned to him, eyes blazing and face scrunching as if he had seen something vile. “Those mercenaries; they acted as if they owned this place and they threatened our men. Kurt and his men went on a patrol around the perimeter when those bastards showed up and threatened them with their numbers."

Paul bit his lower lip; he knew what kind of men Kurt and his group were. As previously established, some men in their ranks wouldn't even be considered into the Brotherhood during normal circumstances, and the trio had been nothing but trouble since . 

"Were they hurt?" he carefully set his cup down as he asked, pushing through his prejudices to give Richard a chance to explain. While they might be unsavoury, they still represent the Brotherhood of Light, thus having their reputation and authority undermined at times like these could prove disastrous to their operations. 

"Does it matter? They're still out of line. They're challenging us!" Richard snarled, pacing restlessly like a bear in a cage. "I won't let them get away with threatening our men!" 

"Have you investigated the issue thoroughly? You know the kind of people Kurt and his men are; _you_ drafted them. There's a high chance they started the conflict in the first place and told you differently, they've done so before." 

"You think our men lied?"

"We should find out more about what really happened before we jump to conclusions and make things worse." When the younger man kept pacing, Paul tried to take a different approach. "Look, Richard. I understand what you mean, I really do. But we alone are severely outmanned and underpowered to fight this infection." 

Richard scowled at him. "So you're saying that we should just let them do whatever they want?"

"No, I'm _suggesting_ that we should work with them. We may have knowledge on our side but the mercenaries are more heavily armed than us; those guns have tremendous firepower that could turn the tide of us all surviving this plague," Paul reasoned. The recent extraction was proof enough that they lacked manpower, if not skill. "And they're more adequately trained than most of our members right now. You saw how organized they were back at the warehouse—how efficient they were. Because of that, I’ll be meeting them to discuss a collaboration."

Richard gave him a look of disgust. “Those men joined our cause because they look up to the Brotherhood. If we let those mercenaries trample all over us, we’ll be nothing but a laughing stock.” His mouth twisted into a bitter sneer. “As if Victor hadn’t done enough damage already.”

Paul sucked a harsh breath between his teeth but managed to calm himself down before he could say anything reproachful. He refused to rise to the bait. “Victor _liberated_ the covenant.”

“And he’s _dead_ ,” Richard snapped back, swinging his arm in a wide, sweeping motion. "Leaving us to clean up his mess."

"And you've come to ask me to clean _yours_.” As placid as his nature was, Paul knew his position required him to be firm. After Victor Belmont, he was the most senior member of the Brotherhood of Light currently present. How could he hope to lead the group if he allowed his men to constantly undermine his authority? He reached for his tea to wet his suddenly dry throat. The tea tasted scorchingly bitter on his tongue and he allowed it to fuel his next words. “What are you really angry about? The fact that Victor sacrificed himself to give us a fighting chance or your own inability to rein your unruly recruits?”

Paul knew he risked escalating the situation from provoking Richard, but he needed to plant his foot down. He didn't allow the younger man the chance to open his mouth, hardening his voice as he continued, “Kurt and his men are arrogant and unruly; they have a reputation of antagonising everyone while thumping the Brotherhood’s name over their chests. The Brotherhood of Light isn’t a book club that dispenses immunity badges for anyone to do as they please. If they’re met with unpleasant repercussions due to their own unsavoury behaviours, then they're more than well-deserved.”

The look Richard gave him was one of stunned disbelief that quickly morphed into a sneer. "You're quick to side with those assholes. Why? Because they saved our asses _once_?" 

“I'm not siding with anyone. This isn’t about who's the bigger dog, Richard. Our responsibility is to the people and keeping them safe takes precedence over your fragile ego,” Paul retorted, feeling his jaw tighten as he did. “Currently they're doing a better job of keeping _all of us_ safe." 

“No, this is about you being more than happy to let others do your dirty work," Richard accused, leaning forward to glare at the older man. "I don't know why I even bother coming to you. I forgot you're always about diplomacy and all that bullshit." He pulled away with a sarcastic laugh. "Thought after what happened you would've quit playing the preacher, Paul. Nothing gets fixed just by talking. _You_ of all people should know that by now." 

Paul felt the familiar flashes of rage course through his body when the implication behind those words washed over him like a wave of hot venom. Memories of his old life—a life he left behind—stung like someone just ripped the scab off a still tender skin to reveal a festering wound beneath. By some miracle he managed to school his face into a blank mask. He wouldn’t give Richard the satisfaction. His spine straightened, any trace of diplomacy disappeared from his posture. "This isn’t just about fighting. This is _surviving._ However, if you're so inclined about maintaining control then you should start by controlling your men, Richard. You initiated them, I should expect you to have the sense to teach them how members of the Brotherhood should behave.” He motioned towards his cluttered desk. “I will still make preparations for the upcoming discussion. If you’re so adverse about the collaboration, feel free to skip the meeting.”

Richard sneered at his cold response but said nothing as he turned to leave.

"And another thing, Richard," Paul called out, waiting until the younger man looked at him. “Never bring up the past again.” 

He watched Richard leave and waited a full five minutes before he unlocked his muscles. Suddenly everything felt so heavy as if the last few weeks worth of exhaustion finally weighed down on him. Feeling weak, he dragged himself toward a nearby chair and slumped heavily into it. Richard’s last words still rang in his mind like the loud church bell. He had shoved that dark chapter of his life behind him. He looked down at his calloused hands; they used to be so gentle and held a rosary instead of a shotgun. The dark sleeves of his jacket covered his arms but he could still see the ugly scars that ran along his right arm. 

A painful reminder of that warm autumn over ten years ago. 

When his sight suddenly became blurred Paul quickly buried his head in his hands before the hot tears could escape. He breathed deeply through his nose, willing for his emotions to settle before anger replaced the pain, bubbling hotly inside his chest. Richard had no right to blame him over what had happened when he was the one who had to live with the pain. Every day Paul wished he could have done things differently. If his faith wasn't too menial and if he had been more accepting of God's plans...

Paul sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He needed to get out. If he stayed put he would fall back to his depressing thoughts. At times he felt like he had more difficulty with micro-managing the men under his charge than dealing with the infection itself. If his hair wasn’t graying already, he swore it would be from the stress alone. He still had people to look after. He couldn’t afford being weak. He finished the last of his already lukewarm tea and grabbed his gear. Stepping out of the tent, Paul decided to find men he could talk to about the camp's activity. After walking around the campsite, he found out that most of the tents were empty aside from a few small families he could see huddled amongst themselves either within the privacy of their tents or by the lit campfires. He guessed the missing occupants were still in the common areas, taking advantage of the illumination and hot supper served at the cafeteria. The thought of food made the muscles of his stomach cramp with hunger. Maybe he should follow their example and get something to eat.

"Edda, wait up!"

Paul stood still, trying to pinpoint where the sound came from. It was pretty strange for young children to play at this late hour of the night. Most children were already retired with their families except for the few stubborn, older ones. The high-pitched voice was accompanied by peals of carefree laughter. When was the last time he heard a sound so beautiful? Paul tried to see if the voice came from one of the nearby tents. A few adults lifting their heads slightly to meet his look was enough of an indication that they heard it too but they went back to their business, content with not getting involved. Paul was about to ask them when he saw flashes of red and yellow between the tents, weaving deftly around the haphazard structures of fences and pillars constructed around the camp. When the laughter rang closer, Paul saw a large, black cat running his way with a young, red-haired girl hot on its heels. The black cat jumped on the mountain of crates by his side until it reached the top, looking down smugly at its now out-of-breath pursuer. 

"Oh, that's not fair! You're cheating!" the girl complained, her pink cheeks puffed up as she pouted at the feline. She looked like she was planning to climb the crates—a daunting feat considering she was only three feet tall herself—when she noticed his presence. 

"Hello there," Paul smiled and lifted his hands up in surrender, trying to look as friendly as possible when her green eyes widened. "I didn’t mean to frighten you, dear. I was just passing by." The girl stared at him warily, distrust and alarm evident in her eyes when she realised how empty and secluded the area was. Paul was aware how she kept her distance and watched him carefully for sudden movements, ready to run if needed. He smiled, feeling strangely proud that the child was taught well to be cautious against strangers. He was aware the weapons he had on him weren’t exactly inspiring a harmless image. Paul crouched down to her level but didn’t close their distance, offering her the space and opportunity to move as she pleased while showing her that he meant her no harm. 

"Isn’t it a bit late for you to be out and about at this hour? Is your family nearby?" When she didn't answer him, he introduced himself, pressing his palm over his chest, "My name is Paul. That's my tent right there." He pointed towards the way he came from, seeing the familiar blue and gray tarp of his tent. He noticed the information seemed to ease her worry. “What's your name, young lady?”

“I’m told not to talk to strangers,” the girl mumbled while digging the toe of her boot into the dirt nervously. She looked distraught and uncomfortable, caught between talking to him and being rude. 

“That’s good advice.” Paul nodded, hoping she could tell how proud he was of her trying her best to follow it. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell on you. I’m only looking out for you. It’s getting late and there’s not many people around.” He wondered how the child’s parents let her roam around unattended at such a late hour. His heart clenched at the thought that she could be one of the many children made orphan by the plague. Paul quickly schooled his face into a gentle smile. “If you like, I can bring your cat down for you?" he offered, straightening up to his height. The crates weren’t too tall, he could reach the animal if he stretched his arms out.

"Don't! Edda hates people touching her!" 

The sudden shout nearly sent him stumbling into the crates in shock. There was an intensity to her warning that Paul stopped from reaching for the cat. He looked at the girl in confusion and then up at the black cat. The feline looked down at him from its perch, its large eyes glittered like sparkling ocean as it observed him like a hunter observing its prey. _Is that a normal eye colour for a cat?_ Somehow he had a feeling the warning was done with his safety in mind. In the end his help wasn’t even needed. Bored of her high throne, the creature nimbly hopped down the crates, landing by the man's feet with the agility known of its kind. The cat looked up to him calmly with those unnatural eyes before turning to walk towards the little girl. Paul watched how she rubbed herself against the girl’s leg with a low, soothing purr, tail curling happily when she was rewarded with gentle head rubs. “She’s a beautiful cat. Is she yours?”

The little girl stopped rubbing the cat to look at him. “Edda’s not a cat, she’s my Nan’s kith,” she explained, as if it was common knowledge. 

“I...see.” Paul didn’t know what to make of the information so he chalked it up to the child’s overactive imagination. She must be close to her grandmother and thought of the cat being her grandmother’s most cherished pet. Children her age were prone to concoct creative views around their beliefs. Considering their current situation, he saw no harm in indulging her fantasy. The cat sat quietly beside her, poised and regal like an elegant statue. He still felt a bit uneasy about how the animal stared at him with those unnatural eyes of hers. “Well then, I’m going to continue on my walk. You best run home before you worry your family.”

“Nan knows I’m safe with Edda.” The little redhead exchanged looks with the cat before she sighed in agreement. “...I guess I should. I feel sleepy.”

Paul was relieved to hear that. “Do you need me to walk you home?”

The redhead shook her head, sending her messy red curls flying around her head. “It’s okay, I know my way back. Thanks though.” She looked at his face intently. “You’re not so bad, Mister.”

Paul felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline at the unexpected approval. “Thank you.”

She nodded at the cat and the feline began to slowly walk down the path. The redhead looked up at Paul shyly, “My name’s Carmen.” 

Paul knew that it was a show of trust and he struggled to force his voice through the lump in his throat. “Carmen,” he echoed softly. “Nice to meet you, Carmen.” 

Carmen smiled brightly. “Bye, Mister Paul!” 

She had already disappeared down the path by the time Paul could manage a response. For a child that small, she could move really fast. He hoped the cat wouldn’t lead her astray, being within the encampment didn’t mean the place was rid of danger. He remained on the spot to see if she would reappear. When he heard nothing, he allowed his shoulders to relax. “What a charming kid.” Paul found himself smiling at remembering her bright eyes and sunny smile. Children were such a blessing. Without them, he wouldn’t be where he was. He drew strength from the thought that his sacrifice meant he was helping a child. Paul was slightly disappointed that he didn’t find out where her camp was. He would start looking out for a wandering black cat in case it led the bubbly redhead to the area again.

Feeling like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulders, Paul decided he would visit the cafeteria. He was in the mood to mix with the locals and enjoy the warm company of society.

* * *

Alucard stood by the edge of the cliff and stared down into the cavernous dark abyss. He remembered the way it was filled with melting hot lava in the centuries his father's castle stood unchallenged. Shattered remains of skeletons lying in the dirt were proof of the countless lives it had claimed; Brotherhood scouts who failed to escape the castle's maze-like corridors and deadly inhabitants. He wondered briefly if the crater was empty or now housed another threat. 

"How massive is this place? I can't see neither the bottom nor the ceiling." 

Alucard sighed and pulled away from the edge. "If my memory serves correctly, this place used to house titans; creatures that were too big to even fit in the castle proper." He turned around to look at Clancy. “What have you found?”

The redhead crouched on the dusty ground, studying the old bone shards with the help of his flashlight. “Nothing much. The horde our scouts saw two days ago is long gone. Found some of them dead on the train tracks. Shredded and scorched, sometimes both.” He shot the vampire a nervous grin. “Your dad cleaned house.”

Alucard arched an eyebrow in response. “Well, we _are_ practically standing in the ruins of his castle. It confounds me still that humans willingly chose to reside here, after that fact.”

Clancy snorted and stood up, dusting his pants. “Humans are just too damn stubborn sometimes. I bet some still think the city is habitable even after all that's happened and refuse to evacuate.” His mouth turned downwards at the thought. ”Even if they agree to leave the city, how are we gonna move out hundreds of civilians safely? The military isn't too thrilled about helping. They already marked us all as a lost cause and will kill us on sight to stop the infection from spreading.”

“With supplies running scarce we can’t remain here either.” Alucard frowned in displeasure. He knew that there was nothing they could really do until they cleared the polluted air but the inactivity was stifling him. “We need to find a safe path out of the city as soon as possible before more people fall ill from living underground." The threat of the military was frustrating. Instead of aiding the people, they cut off Castlevania city from the outside world, hoping the infection would run its course. He heard of how those who tried to escape from the city were subsequently killed or forced back. Unless they managed to rid the city of all the monsters and infection, they would need to find a way to prove to the outside world that the survivors weren't infected. Alucard ran his fingers through his hair and sighed softly. "It’s past midnight, we should rejoin the others and return to camp.”

“Champ and Elias will head out on a supply run in the morning. The infected are less active during the day. I'll ask them to be on the lookout for the military so we'll know what they're planning.” Clancy jogged to match the vampire’s pace, balancing his rifle between his shoulder blades while holding the flashlight to light their way. “So when are you going to meet the Brotherhood? Not that I want their help but it’ll be nice if they can chip in with the workload too.”

Alucard pursed his lips, knowing that the redhead had a point, but he was reluctant to include strangers into their circle. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Brotherhood to share the same goal. His men were a practical group; they weren’t held back by religious or mythical preconceptions. Even if they could set their differences aside, the Brotherhood of Light wasn’t known to be lenient towards non-human creatures, let alone those closely-related to his father. He needed to think of a way to convince the Brotherhood to work alongside the mercenaries while retaining the quota. “This noon, if possible. Best to do so during the lull of the day.” The vampire looked to his side where his companion was pointing his flashlight at random directions with little interest. “Do you still wish to join the meeting?”

“Of course. It’d be fun to see their faces when you tell them to shove it.” Clancy smiled innocently when the vampire turned to glare at him. “Come on, you know you will.” 

“The point of the meeting is to come to a peaceful accord, Clancy. Not to turn it into a pissing contest,” Alucard reminded him with an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps I should take Lars with me instead. He has a clearer head on his shoulders.”

“Hey!” Clancy looked betrayed. “We all agreed on me going with you. Besides, Lars hates politics.”

“As do you,” Alucard pointed out, narrowing his eyes to shoot the redhead a critical look. “At least he won’t ‘accidentally’ insult anyone’s whole ancestry when he opens his mouth. It’s a blessing you don’t inherit the more magical capabilities of your bloodline. Your great grandfather had unintentionally cursed someone bald once.”

The redhead snickered at the tale. “It’s a shame, you mean. I could curse someone to grow a pair.” 

Alucard pinched the bridge of his nose to quell an incoming headache. "Clancy, please do not insult or curse anyone into growing or losing _anything_."

The redhead threw his arms over his head, his flashlight shining wildly in the darkness. “I’m a heretic and a merc, so sue me,” Clancy grumbled. "Nan can probably curse people if she wants to."

The vampire winced. He had seen the damage Rose could do when she really put her back into it. It was a blessing that she didn’t pass the ability to her grandchildren.

“You could catch up on your sleep?” Alucard suggested, changing the topic before Clancy could start concocting a devious plan involving curses. “I know it’s not easy to manage this place with how thinly you all are spread out. Everyone is exhausted. You should rest while you can.” He could tell that Clancy really considered the offer when the redhead was quiet for a full minute. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Green eyes scrutinised the vampire’s face in suspicion. “You are, aren’t you? You want me to stay behind.”

Alucard licked his lips. "I'm worried about leaving my father with the others." At the redhead's stare, he carefully elaborated, "No, I guarantee that he will not harm anyone I hold dear. What worries me is how the men will react to him.” He paused to stare at the blackness around them with only a thin strobe of light from Clancy’s flashlight to illuminate their footing. “When fate subjected my father to his current existence, he imprisoned himself here, far from the reaches of humanity. Cursed with all that terrible power, he was a living chaos, a force of destruction; he knew there was no place for him elsewhere. Fear of his power changed compassion into hatred. Those who used to revere him turn to spit on his existence, because he became a terrible force they couldn’t match. For all he’s sacrificed, mankind sought his damnation.” Alucard grimaced, knowing he used to think the same way. “Years of isolation in this cursed place,” he waved a hand at the empty darkness. “...shattered him. I’ve no allusions of understanding what he had suffered through but I knew it left a deep mark in his soul, because his agonised screams still echoed throughout the castle halls, even centuries afterwards.” Something told Alucard he could still hear those screams if he closed his eyes and listened.

Clancy stared at the vampire with his eyes wide in panic. “Not trying to sound cynical but are you sure your dad's all calm and cool now?” he asked nervously.

Alucard thought of the sorrow and anger he saw constantly swirling in Dracul's eyes when his father thought he wasn't looking. The Dragon wasn't calm, he was merely _dormant_. "There's no way centuries of torment and rage could vanish in a single night. My father is a passionately vengeful creature; the only way he could manage control was to cut off his emotions, forcefully." He learnt how Dracul's self-loathing was so strong that the vampire lord was as unhesitantly brutal with himself as he was with the rest of the world. "When he buried all that pain, he buried a part of himself too. But he's remembering." Alucard looked at his companion. "When he met you, I saw him remember the humanity he lost.”

Clancy scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I guess I left a strong impression.”

“You called him ‘a crotchety pain in the arse’,” Alucard reminded helpfully, lips quirking into a small smirk. "You're not afraid to challenge him. For years, people have likened him to _everything_ that is evil in the world. You didn't; you saw the distinction of his individuality when no one else would, and treated him as his own person. He appreciated that."

The redhead flushed darker at the compliment. "Guess I've my Seer blood to thank, and growing up with you around certainly helped desensitise me to your nature." His mouth twisted into a nervous grin. "So desensitised that I lost sight of a very real danger." 

The vampire chuckled, "Yes, he had been very vocal about how no one fears him anymore.”

“Oh, no. I’m very much terrified of him, he doesn’t have to worry about that.” Clancy sighed, running a hand over his unruly mop of hair. There was no way he could mess it up any further if he tried. “I guess it can’t be helped. Having _you_ as a family friend means I just have to get used to him being around. If I don’t think about it too hard, it’s a pretty standard reaction for a ‘meet-your-dad’ situation.” 

“Father has his reservations but he’s far more accommodating of those I approve,” Alucard reiterated confidently. “He just needs to get to know you as well as I do.”

"You’ve known me since I was born, I doubt anyone aside you and Nan could even come close to match that," the redhead pointed out tartly. "Still, you know me and my sharp tongue. What if I end up riling your father so much that he destroys the whole city instead?"

Alucard laughed. “It would be an amazing feat if you could. Clancy, my father had been called worse, and cursed by every magical talent there was. It would take more than a few impolite jabs to invoke his ire. And no, curses never work against him,” he added when he saw the redhead perk up.

“Both of you are not fun at all.” Clancy pouted before he turned serious. “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

The vampire was slightly taken aback at the other’s question. “Of course. He’s my father.”

Clancy gave him a look that said he didn’t believe him. "I've never seen you fuss about anyone like you do him.” He shrugged at Alucard’s questioning look. “Don't get me wrong, whatever the reason, I'm happy for you. It's just unusual to see you care so much about one person, that's all."

Alucard could understand Clancy's conundrum. Even when he was always warm with those he considered family, Alucard had always kept his distance. He never afforded himself to forge lasting attachments with anyone because of his immortality. The heartbreak of the loss would cripple him.

"Trust me, you would fuss too when your father is the unstoppable, immortal God of Chaos,” Alucard deadpanned. It was easy to forget that while he was powerful and ancient, Alucard was still a normal enough vampire; he bled, he burned in the sun, and he survived on blood. Alucard came with the common conception of what a vampire was. Dracul however was a being much more powerful than a normal vampire. The power he amassed from defeating the Lords of Shadow—since the prophecy was about Dracul defeating all three Lords of Shadow, Alucard wondered if his power grew even more after killing Zobek—and the ancient, interdimensional demon made him into a terrifying being, able to single-handedly defeat Satan and his ilks. 

_God’s champion. Even now He still favours him._

“You don’t have to worry,” Clancy assured, breaking the vampire from his reverie. “You said it yourself, Lars always makes good calls. I’m sure your dad will be fine with him and the others.”

Alucard sighed and nodded. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re right.”

They walked for a few minutes before they saw their men hung back by a pile of rubble. Alucard exchanged puzzled looks with Clancy before the latter called out to the group, “What’s going on? I thought we agreed to meet up by the tunnel entrance.”

“Hey,” Lars waved the two over. “Mig found something.” He led them through a ruined archway into a partially hidden stairway. Alucard raised his eyebrow.

“How did Mig find _this_?”

“You know Mig.” Lars shrugged, smiling slyly. “Guy’s got a talent at sniffing out secrets.”

Clancy snorted at the remark. “If only he can sniff out secrets on how to make edible food too.”

Lars waved for the other two men to stand guard over the entrance while he, Clancy, and Alucard descended down the stairway. The staircase was thankfully still fairly sturdy despite missing more than half of its left side from a collapsed wall. The stairs led them into a large courtyard where Mig and two other men were already waiting. Alucard left Clancy and Lars to catch up with them as he walked across the dark courtyard, taking in the new environment. 

Judging by the architecture and debris scattered all over, the place seemed to have been a beautiful garden or a greenhouse at some point. Alucard remembered stalking through the haunting forest in the castle while Dracul was still in power. What were once beautifully crafted marble sculptures littered the long, dusty path that led to a large, smooth stone double door built into the brick wall at the end of the room. The door was at least twenty feet tall—almost as tall as the wall itself—and wide enough to fit a small aircraft; its size seemed all the more impressive with the men standing in front of it. From the traces of marble flooring and worn filigree still visible in parts, the structure seemed to be a remnant of the old castle.

"That's a massive door." Clancy shone his flashlight at the structure, awestruck. "Any chance of getting it open? 

Lars waved at the men checking around the room and shook his head. “We've checked every nook and cranny but we couldn't find any unlocking mechanism, and it’s shut too tight to even try prying it open.” He pointed at the edges of the archwaya. “There are strange markings around the sides though, any idea what they are?” he asked, looking at Alucard and Clancy expectantly. 

Alucard carefully studied the faded markings on the stone surface. “It’s...a gateway of sorts.”

“You’ve never seen them before?” Clancy asked, curiously leaning closer to study the markings too.

“A large part of the castle was too saturated with my father’s power that they were not accessible even to me,” Alucard admitted with a shake of his head. Part of him suspected Dracul made it so to stop him from venturing into sections of the castle that were too ancient and too primal to control. The castle’s demon might be subservient to his father but it had no intention of extending him the same courtesy, especially after all the bad blood between him and his sire. His short venture throughout the Forbidden Wing had been harrowing enough. Every inch of stone in that wing bore deep gauges of his sire’s depleting sanity. 

Remembering the many bitter fights and cruel words he threw at his father in fits of anger needled an all-too-familiar guilt into his heart. Dracul didn’t deserve his hatred, misguided as he was. Alucard still regretted the time they wasted fighting each other.

_It’s all in the past. We have an eternity to make up for the time we lost._

Lifting his head, he pointed at the marking etched on the top part of the door. “See those at the top? Those runes are very old, older than my father and I. Possibly surviving relics of the old gods.” It would explain why it didn’t have the smell of corruption like all the other structures built during Dracul’s reign. It was a miracle anything of that time survived his father's occupation, more so after the castle's destruction. Reaching out, the vampire realised why; he could feel the ancient magic crackling off the structure. It was a simple preservation spell, but one so strong that it could possibly withstand the onslaught of a battering ram. Alucard could detect a faint signature of Dracul's power mingled in the spell, so he was confident his father had a hand in it. He pointed at a particular etching. “This is newer; it’s...” he blinked in confusion. “...some kind of a trade?”

"A trade? Like a trade route?" Clancy asked hopefully, warily eyeing the ominous structure. "Can you open it?" 

If the ancient magic shared the same temperament as the castle’s, Alucard didn’t think he could. Nevertheless, he stretched his arm towards the door, palm glowing as he focused into feeling the force of magic steeped through the structure. It felt like the stones groaned and shuddered, awakening at the sense of his presence. Alucard knew magic that was sentient sometimes behaved like an animal; it was curious, wary, and unpredictable. He gently coaxed his own power through the thick stones, letting the old magic familiarise with it until he felt it settle down. Breathing softly as if not to startle a skittish animal, he extended his power, feeling around until he felt it wrapped around the locking mechanism. Alucard was about to tug at it only to be met by an unexpected, piercing scream in his head as invisible force knocked his hand back with an angry burst of energy. Everyone flinched at the unexpected knock back; the suddenness felt bone-rattling. 

Clancy stared wide-eyed in shock at the vampire, concern colouring his voice, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Alucard assured, rubbing his temples while waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside. Usually he could easily sense the intent behind a magical power so it wasn’t often that he was taken by surprise by a violent backlash. He supposed he couldn’t exactly hope to charm an ancient ward as easily as a common magic. Alucard inspected the damage on his palm. The attack ripped through his glove but whatever wound he sustained had already healed, leaving the skin unblemished. "I didn’t expect the warding would be so combative.” Now he was even more curious of what Dracul kept hidden in there. “I’m unsure of what lies beyond the gate that merits such a vicious defensive seal but it would be best not to attempt any further until my father returns."

"Won't he sense someone tampering with the seal?" Clancy rubbed his chin as he studied the ancient markings. "He could be on his way here as we speak." 

Alucard shook his head. "If he's within the city limits, perhaps. This land is his kingdom and rife with magic so nothing escapes his notice. The next city is too far away and the magic isn't as potent. Father would need to consciously expand his own magical power to learn about what's happening here." He leered at the redhead. "I know you're eager to see what's behind the door, Clancy. Don't test it."

Clancy blinked innocently. "What? I was just wondering. It's not like I'm going to touch it. I love my hands, thank you very much. I'll use a stick." He ducked away from the vampire's swipe with a grin. "Seriously though, your dad's been out there for quite some time. Can you tell what he's up to?" 

Alucard narrowed his eyes critically at him. "I can't. I can only sense his general presence being this far away." He agreed that the long absence was starting to get to him. Dracul was a man who was hard to miss. Even discounting his personality, his physical build was bound to turn heads. Alucard had centuries to master blending in a crowd and he still stuck out like a sore thumb because of his height and thick mane. The vampire let out a heavy sigh. "I should have given him a cellphone." It was fast becoming something of a priority in the list of things he needed to teach the older vampire about.

"Guess there's no point in staying here. Better to leave it for now and continue with the sweep, we still need to check the south tunnels before we can head back," Lars decided, looking around to see if anyone had any objection. "At least we're lucky it's pretty far from the settlement so nobody will stumble across it by accident."

"We should block the area off just in case. I'm not taking any chances of having some idiots sneaking out of the campsite for a little adventure," Clancy said, waving his flashlight around the area to make sure nothing was waiting to jump them from the dark corners. "I like the idea of the Brotherhood finding this place even less."

“Oh yeah, when are you going to talk to them?” Lars asked, suddenly remembering about the meeting. “If you need more men to go with you, just say so. It’ll be good to let them know that we can handle our own.”

Alucard shook his head at the offer. “It would give them the wrong message if we come to the meeting with an aggressive front. Don’t worry, their leader is reasonable enough, I’m sure we can keep things civil.” He glanced at the redhead beside him slyly and reiterated, “ _Relatively_.”

Clancy groaned loudly as everyone snickered at him. “They better watch out, I’ll curse the living daylights out of them and their mothers!” 

After covering up the path with rocks and debris, they slowly made their way towards the main tunnel as a group. Seeing the abandoned railway tracks and train carriage reminded Alucard of how alone and isolated they were. It made the darkness feel even more malicious and inescapable. Not needing light to see in the dark, he walked ahead of the group, keeping an eye on the darkest of shadows for any possible attacks. 

He stopped when a gentle sensation like a cold breath prickled his skin. Something was moving in the dark further down the tunnel. Clancy stopped beside him, clearly sensing the same presence.

"Hostile?"

Alucard furrowed his brows. Focusing, he could even hear the distant, wet growls and skittering in the shadows. They didn't sound big. "Possibly a small group of the infected." While he had confidence that his men could fend for themselves, even a small group of the infected would be difficult to deal with in a dark, closed space. His hand twitched, ready to shed his glamour and summon Crissaegrim into existence. Before he could do either however, the growls were systematically cut short, followed by a string of loud curses. 

“Humans.” Alucard bit his lower lip. They were the only team patrolling the underground tunnels as far as he knew, so the other team was most likely the Brotherhood. He cursed his oversight; he should have foreseen the Brotherhood would take to patrolling too. A chance encounter in a hostile territory—especially after the little scuffle between their two groups—was not something he looked forward to. Alucard had hoped to clear the air with the meeting. If things went south here, he would be forced to intervene. He didn’t plan to reveal himself this early. He gave Clancy and Lars an apologetic look and they understandingly stepped forward.

“Identify yourself or we’ll shoot!” Lars called out into the darkened tunnel, gun poised and ready.

A flashlight shone over them before lowering. “Tch, figures you lot are here too.”

* * *

_Just my luck._

Richard felt the elation from killing the two infected dwindled the moment he saw the group. They had been quite lucky to evade the mercenaries along their hunting route. They were probably just unlucky to be turned around by the winding tunnel systems in the vast cavern. He narrowed his eyes to see over the glare of flashlights. The mercenaries were in a group of six, with three in the front and three covering the back. Richard cursed inwardly; he only had three other men with him and they were fresh, inexperienced recruits. He regretted not bringing another team of experienced Brotherhood members with them. Being outnumbered added into his distaste of the group. The tall man from the first contact was there too, dressed sharply in a sleek suit. Who wears an expensive three piece on a hunt? He didn’t see the man carrying a weapon either. Was he their leader? The other men with him were decked up with light armour and heavy weaponry in comparison. 

“Richard,” the leader— _Trevor,_ he believed his name was—spoke up. “We heard quite the commotion. Is everything alright?”

Richard turned his nose up. “Worry about yourselves. We’re warriors of the Brotherhood. We’re made to kill monsters.” He took pleasure at seeing how Trevor’s men tensed at the hostility in his voice. No matter how organised they were, the Brotherhood of Light had a far longer history in monster-hunting. The mercenaries only knew to hide behind their fancy weapons. He scrunched his face in disdain at one of the two men flanking Trevor who was cradling a large rifle. “Aren’t you people more about hiding behind barricades with your guns? Your guns are useless in close combat.”

To his surprise, the other man with the red hair was the one who responded, voice dripping with equal venom. “Oh, sniper rifles are pretty efficient in close range too. I’ll be glad to educate you if you want,” he said sarcastically, patting at the long rifle slung behind his back.

“We’re patrolling the perimeter around the camp,” Trevor interjected before the situation could get out of hand. Richard felt slightly uneasy how his sharp eyes zeroed on him. He had hunted enough monsters to recognise the eyes of a killer. “I recall it’s something we agreed to discuss.”

Richard sneered at the mention of the meeting. “I don’t care what you and Paul agreed on as long as you don’t mess in the Brotherhood’s business.” He spat at the ground by his feet. “The Brotherhood set up this camp first before you people took over.”

“We understand,” Trevor said calmly in agreement. “We only aim to help the people.”

“We got a live one!”

He withheld an aggravated sigh at the timing. In favour of training the new recruits, he brought them along in hunt. For their sake, he hoped they wouldn’t make an ass of themselves in front of the mercenaries. Richard turned to look over his shoulder to see Kurt coming closer with his two usual posse close on his tail. They were dragging something along—something _feral_ —via chains. The large grin on Kurt’s face made him anxious. 

“Look what we found skulking in the tunnels,” Kurt exclaimed before he noticed the group of mercenaries. His smile disappeared when he saw the redhead. “You again.”

“It’s those guys again!” his two friends cried in support. “How dare you show your faces here.”

The redhead smirked tauntingly. "That’s amazing. You almost sound genuinely offended for being the ones running away with their tails tucked between their legs.”

Richard frowned. _So they were the ones Kurt told me about._

“ _Clancy._ ” While soft, Trevor’s voice was firm and heavy. The redhead clamped his mouth shut at the warning but he still glared defiantly at the trio.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you know that this is the Brotherhood’s territory?” Kurt sneered at the men. “Doesn’t matter. You’re too late anyway. We already cleared the area, plus we caught a live one here.” He stepped aside, proudly presenting their discovery. The creature in the chain was an infected, smaller than usual—

_For fuck’s sake._ Richard suppressed the urge to groan when he realised what it was. _As if being idiots aren’t bad enough, they caught a kid._

The infection morphed what was once a young boy into a grotesque shape of a monster. It thrashed against the blessed chains that wrapped around its twisted body, screeching angrily when it couldn’t break free. The men laughed and yanked the chain around when it snarled and tried to swipe at its captors. It was obvious that it was no match for the three men as it quickly tired from struggling. “What, that’s all you got?” Kurt clicked his tongue and kicked it in the chest, eliciting a pained yelp from the poor creature.

“Hey asshole, quit that!” 

Richard turned around to see the redhead stepping forward before his friend quickly lunged to grab his arm and held him back. He half-expected to get the same reaction from Trevor but the tall man was quiet. There was a tell-tale sign of tension in his jaw though and his glare was downright frosty. His attention went back to the redhead again when the man took another step forward despite his friend’s hold.

“Is your dick so small that you got to pick on a kid? Pick on someone your own size, you demented piece of shit!”

The redhead apparently had a temper to him, Richard noted. It could be used to their advantage.

“ _‘Kid’_? You sympathise with this ugly thing?” Kurt sneered, toeing impassively at the whimpering fetal form on the ground with the tip of his boot. “This thing is not a ‘kid’ anymore. It’s a monster, a pest that needs to be put down.” He smirked. “Are you a monster lover or something?”

“Infected or not, it was once a small child,” Trevor said stiffly, his voice flat and dark. He met Richard’s eyes, questioning his silence that he allowed such conduct from his men. “It has suffered enough, it deserves a merciful and swift end.”

As much as Richard loathed to agree with the man, he also felt that what Kurt was doing made him ill. He didn’t think of the creature as a kid, he just preferred to get things done as quickly as possible. He looked over his shoulder, hoping Kurt would get the hint. “Kurt, enough.”

“‘Mercy’? These things tore through our families like they were meat sacks. Why should I treat it any better?” Kurt scoffed at Trevor’s reasoning, ignoring his direct order and stomped on the creature’s lankey arm, causing it to shriek in pain. “Yeah, scream all you want. You’re not getting off easy.” When Kurt moved to kick it again, it unexpectedly lunged forward and clamped its jaw round the man’s ankle. 

“Shit! Get it off!” 

Richard suppressed the urge to groan at the embarrassing display. He could almost swear he heard someone snickering while Kurt paled and flailed in panic when he couldn’t dislodge the little monster from his foot. 

“Get it off me!” It took a few hard yanks from his friends before they managed to pry it from the man’s leg, leaving very visible small holes the shape of its jagged teeth on the man’s leather boots.

“Little fucker bit me! Oh, you’re so going to pay—”

_Screw this._ Richard shoved Kurt aside before he could start on another tirade, uncaring of the other’s surprised yelp when he landed on his ass. He glared warningly at the two men holding the chains, daring them to say anything to add to his foul mood. Hearing no protest, he shifted his attention towards the contorted creature at his feet. It opened its distorted mouth, showing him rows of sharp, jagged teeth as it hissed like a snake. Unaffected, Richard drew his short sword and swung, decapitating the creature in one clean swipe. The shrill sound of metal cutting through bone still rang sharply in the silence when the creature fell limp with its head rolling a few inches to the side, frozen in an ugly snarl. Richard ignored the way the trio went green at the sight as he flicked the dark blood off his blade and resheathed it.

“What an embarrassment,” he spat, glaring at the three. They flinched, knowing that he was upset by their pathetic performance. “If you want to talk big then act like it.” He turned to glance at the mercenaries with a pinched frown before barking orders at his men, “Get your shit together. We’re leaving.” The three instantly scrambled to collect the blessed chains from the corpse. 

_Good. If they leave the chains I’ll string them up myself._

Turning around, Richard marched past the mercenaries. He made an effort to not look at them even though he felt their eyes followed him until the light from their flashlights were no longer on him. He kept a brisk pace until he could see the illuminated tunnel entrance. He was waiting by it when his men finally caught up to him, sweating and out of breath from their hasty jog. 

“Did you see the look on their faces? Man, those idiots were so scared they couldn’t even say anything!”

His patience was already running thin but when he heard them start to laugh, his irritation soared. Before Richard even realised it, he was already lunging forward. He barely heard the choked screams and the sound of something clattering to the ground, so focused he was on the feeling of his fist connecting with something meaty. He allowed the momentum of his swing to propel him forward until he felt the hardness of bones against his knuckles. The red in his vision cleared when he heard something heavy fell to the ground with a dull thud, his breath coming out in harsh, white puffs in the cold temperature. He looked down at his feet at Kurt who was sprawled on the ground, holding his jaw in his hand while staring at the older man in surprise and fear. 

“You’re laughing?!” Richard barked, clenching his fists so hard the leather of his gloves creaked. “You think this is funny? You think this is all a joke?!” The other two men went silent and cowered under his glare, unwilling to share the same fate as their friend. “Have you forgotten who you are?” Richard bared his teeth. “You’re members of the Brotherhood of Light, not some reckless thugs!”

“But those guys were the ones who picked the fight before...,” one of the quieter men managed to find the courage to mumble his protest. 

“Great! And you all showed them, didn’t you? I’m sure they’re all cowed by your amazingly gutsy move,” Richard countered snappily. “You want to impress them? Don’t stop at a foot. Next time let the monsters chew on your dicks!”

His nostrils flared in frustration as he stomped towards Kurt. The man scrambled to get away but Richard grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up only to slam him against the wall. “I’ve had just about enough of your insubordination.” He leaned forward until Kurt didn’t have any choice but to look into his eyes. “ _Never_ disobey my direct order. Do that again and I will throw you to the monsters myself. Understand?”

Kurt paled at the threat. “Y-yes, sir! It won’t happen again!”

Richard scoffed in disbelief and shoved the man towards his friends. “I’m not dealing with you today. We’re done here. Go back to camp and stay there until I tell you otherwise.” He frowned at the way Kurt hobbled on his feet. “And get that leg checked. I don’t need you embarrassing me further.” The trio obeyed, walking hastily down the tunnel before he could change his mind. 

Left alone with only a flashlight lighting his way, Richard allowed his thoughts to wander back to the mercenaries. While he hadn’t expected to run into them, their recent encounter was surprisingly enlightening. He learnt more about their dynamics and he could see why Paul was so interested in them. They showed incredible restraint even when angered by Kurt’s despicable conduct. He honestly would have probably let them beat the shit out of Kurt for the stunt. The redhead called ‘Clancy’ came really close to act on it too. Someone was holding him—holding _all_ of them—back. A single word from Trevor made the redhead sit like an obedient pup. It was impressive that one man had so much control over the mercenaries. Disregarding the air of importance around him, Trevor didn’t seem much older than the rest of the men he surrounded himself with. Richard found his calm demeanor unnerved him however. The man was like a blank void; Richard couldn’t read anything from the man aside from the feeling of something dangerous and dark waiting to devour him. Was that why the mercenaries were so disciplined? He dreaded to think how Trevor could use the meeting to pressure Paul into submitting.

_I won’t let them._ Richard started towards the camp, intent on warning Paul against the collaboration. Something crunched beneath his boot and he jumped back in alarm, shining his flashlight down to see what it was. At first he thought he was looking at the dark shape of a rotten wood from the common architectural debris littering the tunnels but upon toeing at it, he realised it was actually a lump of flesh, burnt to a crisp that the skin resembled gnarled roots. It was one of the infected. He counted it as a small blessing that the corpse was so dry he didn’t have anything disgusting sticking under his sole. Frowning at his finding, he toed at the charred corpse to see it more clearly. His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw a familiar puncture mark on its neck.

“Shit. This has just gone from bad to worse.” He cursed, heart pounding. “ _He_ is here.”

* * *

_*chapter art*_

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	5. Chapter 5

The Angel Crest Medical Centre was—all things considered—not a large hospital. With the building only spanning over four hundred thousand square feet, it was easily dwarfed by the other, larger hospitals in the city. So the sight of police officers and medical personnels dotting the normally calm lobby wasn't something Tatiana expected to find when she stepped through the automated glass door. She paused to glance behind her at her companion.

The large man introduced himself as Gabriel but offered little else. While Tatiana was taught not to trust strangers—especially one who could beat up four elite bodyguards by himself with ease—she reasoned that if he had ill-intention towards her, he had plenty of opportunities to act on it when her two friends went home, leaving her alone with him. Gabriel seemed to sense her unease and kept a courteous distance between them; following behind her far enough that she could pretend she was by herself but still pretty close that she noticed the men passing them on the streets looked over her head with alarmed expressions before hurrying away.

Tatiana wondered if it was how the rich felt about having a bodyguard. _Not that it did Jason Bernhard much good_ , the brunette thought wryly, crossing the lobby to make the usual beeline towards the elevator. She didn't make it far before an officer stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop lest she collide into him. He wasn't a terribly big man but the way he carried himself showed he was used to holding authority like a shield.

"This hospital is currently under restriction order. Visitors are required to state their business."

The brunette blinked in surprise at the declaration. "Since when? I'm here to see my sister. She's a doctor here."

"And her name would be...?" the officer asked, eyeing the young woman from head to toe. The way his eyes dragged over her short dress was telling her that he didn't believe her. He motioned at the glaring bruise on her arm. "What happened to your arm?"

She hid her arm behind her back, beginning to regret not grabbing a coat before she went out. "Her name is Dr. Beatrice Ryder. Her office is on the fifth floor." To her growing annoyance, the officer blocked her again when she tried to leave. "What now?"

"I'll escort you to her office."

"There's no need. I've been here before, I can find my own way."

The infuriating officer only responded to her annoyance with a smirk. "Sorry, Miss. Protocol demands that I escort you during your visit."

After what had happened that night, Tatiana was prepared to use very impolite words to get her point across before the way the officer looked over her head in alarm made her stop. A large shadow loomed over them both and she could feel a gentle heat radiated behind her.

"What seems to be the matter here?"

Tatiana had completely forgotten about her companion that the unfamiliar, guttural voice made her jump. She spun around to find Gabriel was standing directly behind her, forsaking his imposed distance to make his presence known. In the brightness of the hospital's white light, she could see his features more clearly, and couldn't help but appreciate the added clarity. He really was easyonthe eyes; the light stubble peppering his sharp jawline and the tousled mess of his dark, chestnut brown hair only added to his rugged charm. The faint wrinkles and strands of silver lining his temples barely aged him. His eyes were the most intense, steel blue she had ever seen, and they were pinned on the officer with the focus of a predator eyeing its prey. It didn't help that he was _big_ , towering over the other man by nearly half a foot. The size difference was almost comical if not for how the officer strained to remain calm under the attention.

"Step aside." For a moment, Tatiana felt sorry for the officer. She wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that menacing low growl.

Having recovered from the initial shock, the officer squared his shoulders in an attempt to re-establish dominance. "D-due to unforeseen events, this hospital is under emergency operation. Aside from medical and security personnel, every visitor is required to be escorted and supervised." It took considerable effort for him to pry his eyes off the bigger man to look between Gabriel and Tatiana with wide eyes. "What is your relation to her?"

"I am her escort." Tatiana noted the easy way her saviour spoke, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world that it was borderline condescending. "I am to ensure she safely arrives at her destination. If you do not wish to be harmed, I suggest you allow us passage." Tatiana gaped at Gabriel for the bold demand while the officer paled and drew back. It didn't help that the raspy, growly quality of his voice made him sound like a snarling bear. When she saw the officer secretly reached for his radio to alert his colleagues, she immediately jumped between the men and waved her hands frantically in an effort to diffuse the situation.

"Gabriel, it's okay! I'm sure the good officer is only doing his job," she said nervously to her saviour with a placating smile. For a moment she felt like she was standing in front of a speeding train; the dangerous feeling of it prickled on her skin. She had no doubt that if Gabriel wanted to escalate the situation, there was nothing that she could do to stop him.

"Yana?"

Said brunette spun on her heels and nearly fell over in relief when she saw a familiar, dark-skinned man walking towards them. He was dressed in a plain black dress shirt, grey slacks and the standard issue blue jacket of the police force. "Blake! Oh, thank goodness you're here. Can you please tell this officer to let us through?"

Noting her desperation, Blake offered her a tight smile before he turned towards the two men. "Is there a problem?" He barely glanced at the officer; his attention was mostly on the big, tall stranger behind the brunette. Gabriel was glaring silently at him with the same intensity.

The officer straightened and saluted. "Sir, the young miss and her companion demanded access to the fifth floor but refused to follow protocol."

"He won't let me through unless I agree to have him escort me," Tatiana reported, glaring daggers at the officer. "I know my way around my sister's office, I don't need some skeezy creep to follow me around." She allowed herself the satisfaction of seeing shock on the officer's face.

Blake sighed and turned to the officer. "It's okay, Mitch. I got it from here." Once the officer left, he returned to face the young woman. "Yana, what are you doing here this late? I thought you went home—wait, what happened to your arm?" He motioned at the bruises on her arm and eyed the tall man behind her accusingly. "Did you do this?"

"What? No!" Tatiana gasped in horror, standing in front of Gabriel in defense. "He was the one who saved me! If he wasn't there, who knew what would have happened."

"Is that so?" Blake sized up the older man with cautious interest, taking in the expensive suit and the menacing posture. "So why were you there?"

Tatiana flushed and did her best not to groan. " _Blake_."

Blake gave her a mildly apologetic look at the warning. "Sorry, detective habits." He turned back to face the older man. "I'm Blake Knightley. Nice to meet you, Mister..."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the detective before he responded with equal caution, "You may call me Gabriel."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "No last name?" When Gabriel merely stared at him, he dropped the issue. It wasn't uncommon for people to abstain from sharing personal details with strangers—even more so with figures of authority—but it didn't stop Tatiana from wondering if Gabriel had a legal reason for it.

_Great, I'm turning into Blake._

"Can we go somewhere more private?" asked Tatiana, acutely aware of the attention they were getting standing in the open lobby.

"Right, follow me." Blake motioned for the two to follow him. They walked down an empty hallway hidden from the lobby until they reached the elevators. Blake pressed the elevator call button before looking between the two expectantly. "So, wanna tell me what happened?"

"Drunk rich brats happened," Tatiana spilled, scrunching her nose in disgust as she recalled her recent experience. "I was on my way home with Jo and Vicky when a group of guys came around the corner. When we refused to come with them, they tried to drag me away by force. There were probably thirty people there but no one came to help, except for Gabriel," she said, motioning towards her saviour with a bashful smile.

"I was simply in the vicinity," Gabriel offered with an uncaring shrug although there was a hint of delight in his eyes. Tatiana felt a shiver up her spine whenever he spoke. There was something quietly sinister behind that dark, raspy voice of his that belied the man's nonchalant demeanor. His sharp, blue eyes never left Blake's face though, and from the way Blake's jaw tightened, she could tell he had the same thought. "Unfortunate enough to bear witness to how men of power in this city are allowed to abuse and accost the defenseless weak out in the open, unhindered and without consequence."

Blake's eyes hardened at the description. "You know who they were?" he asked, pulling out his phone to take notes.

Tatiana bit her bottom lip and looked away. "It's fine, Blake. I'm not pressing charges."

"Kidnap and battery are serious, Yana," he strained, face dark. "Names and location."

Her mouth twisted in displeasure. Blake was a kind man and a good detective but sometimes his stubborn nature was nothing short of infuriating. "Look, just let it go. They're the wealthiest family in this region, the law won't touch them." She had no allusions over having any action taken over her offenders. Everyone knew going after the Bernhards was like signing one's own death warrant.

"Shit. _Bernhard_." Blake cursed under his breath. "One day I'll bring those assholes down."

"Do that and you'll tank your career. It's okay, Blake. Gabriel already taught them a lesson." Tatiana grinned conspiratorially. "Let's just say if there were paparazzi there, we'd see them on the news for the next few days."

Several emotions played on the detective's face as he alternated looking between the two before he settled on grim resignation. " _Fine_. You better hurry to your sister and get that checked. Those bruises look nasty enough that you could have broken something. And you," he said, turning towards the silent, taller man. "Thanks for your help but she's safe now."

"Hold on, Gabriel isn't going anywhere." Tatiana curled her fingers into the thick fabric of Gabriel's sleeve. "He's coming with me. He got hit worse than me, so I'm getting him checked too."

Blake looked like he had something to say about it before Gabriel suddenly spoke, "I can't help but to note how you speak of the Bernhards. Does the family truly have that much influence over this city?"

Tatiana and Blake exchanged surprised looks; they had never encountered anyone who _didn't_ know about the Bernhards before. She thought it stood to reason why Gabriel wasn't bothered about offending the infamous family.

"I take it you're not from around here then?" Blake asked, pleased to know more about the mysterious stranger. "The Bernhards _built_ this city. Laid the first stone after the Great Purge until Veros became the metropolis it is today," he explained. "They originally tried to reclaim their birth land in Castlevania City but legend says the old family were involved with some twisted occult before their castle was left abandoned. Not sure how legit it was but for some reason they couldn't thrive there, even after the Great Purge that levelled their castle and the surrounding population to the ground, as if the land itself cursed them."

"I wish they live there so they get what they deserve. We all _know_ they have something to do with what happened to Castlevania City," Tatiana muttered sourly. "Everyone knows they have a hand in the responsible parties."

Blake hummed in agreement. "I know, but unfortunately we can't really do anything unless we have proof."

"Proof?" Gabriel asked, eyes crinkling ominously. "It sounds more like an excuse for your lack of courage to pursue the family."

Blake frowned. "Well, as a police officer, I'm bound to the rules of law—"

" _Bureaucracy_ ," the older man dismissed him with a nonchalant wave. "Your law allows the likes of Bernhards to hold the city in their grip and you still abide by it. _Like a good little soldier_ ," Gabriel sneered, dark and condescending. "Law and duty are human's constructs, therefore they are _flawed._ To follow them blindly while knowing they're useless is nothing short of idiotic."

Too stunned to feel offended, Blake barely managed to get his words out, "Are you saying breaking the law is a necessary evil?"

"In the face of a broken system or a misguided faith, what is necessary can hardly be called evil," retorted Gabriel sagely, sounding almost bored of the discussion. "In any case, your moral conundrum isn't any of my concern."

"You're right, it's none of your concern," Blake grounded out snappily. "I don't know where you come from but here we don't follow the laws of the jungle. We're not animals."

Gabriel's lips twitched as if he found humour in the phrase. "Debatable."

Tatiana winced; discussing morality and politics wasn't how she expected their first meeting would have gone through. Blake always reacted poorly to those who had no respect for the law. She saw the tell-tale twitch of agitation in Blake's hands and quickly grabbed his elbow before he could lunge at the older man. "Don't make a scene!" she hissed at him when he glared at her in indignation before turning to Gabriel with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, could you give us a moment?" The older man looked fairly amused at the exchange but respectfully walked away, leaving the two to talk in private.

"The hell is his problem? Where did you find that asshole?" Blake growled as soon as Tatiana released her grip.

The brunette scrunched her nose. "He saved my life, don't be rude. Besides, you know he's right. You said the same thing yourself in the past. You're just mad he's throwing it _to your face_."

Blake scoffed, "Yeah right. He's not from around here so he doesn't know the Bernhards like we do."

"I think he does." Tatiana hummed softly, thinking back about their recent encounter. "The way he talked about them sounded like he knew the family really well. An old grudge, maybe?"

Blake rubbed his chin in contemplation before his eyebrows lifted as if he came up with an epiphany. "Do you think he could be one of them? A Bernhard?"

Tatiana stared at him. " _What?_ " She could possibly be shrieking because a few passing staffs looked their way and Blake was frantically waving his hands in a placating manner.

"Hear me out. It makes sense; he won't give out his last name or where he comes from. He consciously hides his identity," he reasoned.

"He _can't_ be a Bernhard. Jason doesn't even have a clue who he is and _all_ Bernhards love flaunting themselves as one." There was no way someone as nice as Gabriel was associated with that dreadful family. "He beats Jason and his four bodyguards up at the crossing, in front of thirty people. He wouldn't do that if his own reputation was on the line."

Blake gaped at her. "He _what?_ Bernhard hires _elites_ as their guards and he beat down four of them _and_ a member of the family?" He glanced over to where Gabriel was studying the hospital directory panel mounted on the wall before looking back at Tatiana. "Does he have a death wish?"

The brunette could only shrug in response. In all honesty she wasn't all that worried. If Gabriel wasn't a native, chances were he would slip out of their radar and escape the consequence. "What's with all the tight security anyway?" she asked, motioning at the officers dotted around the floor. "Did a big politician check in?"

"If only," Blake sighed, rubbing his forehead in agitation. "No, this is something worse." He shot a suspicious glare at Gabriel to make sure the man was far enough before continuing in a low voice, "A large fire broke out a few blocks from here. We weren't told anything concrete about it but 'rumour' has it that it was a terror attack. The building in question is one of Bioquimek's sub operation facilities in this city."

"Bioquimek?" Tatiana raised an eyebrow. "The company responsible for the outbreak in the first place?"

"The same. They've been getting a lot of flak since the outbreak," Blake sighed with a bone-deep weariness. "Bioquimek got enough scandal as it is. The president has gone AWOL, leaving the company in a mess. Their shares are plummeting and that concerns quite a few people in the top seats." His face twisted in distaste. "It's in those people's best interests that these incidents are kept as quiet as possible."

"What's that got to do with this hospital?" Tatiana froze and paled. "You think they may be targeting this building next?"

Blake shook his head. "I wouldn't worry about it. They likely need a place to store their sensitive materials now that their facility is compromised. Since this hospital is the nearest building equipped with the functions they need, they're transferring them here for now."

"Great. As if we don't already have enough armed forces stationed around the city." She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Now I can't even visit my own sister without having security breathing down my neck."

The detective offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll get out of your hair in a week."

The elevator arrived with a soft ding before the door slid open silently to reveal an empty carriage. Tatiana turned to wave Gabriel over, beaming when the older man inclined his head at her signal. She stumbled on her feet when Blake suddenly pulled her aside. "What?"

Blake glanced at Gabriel who was still lagging behind to study the abstract installations along the wall. "I don't trust that guy. He feels... _off_ ," he whispered uneasily. "Even the way he talks is strange."

Tatiana smiled dreamily at Gabriel's rather eccentric and eloquent diction. Even his accent was captivating, if not intriguingly unfamiliar. Based on his stunted understanding of the political climate of this city, it wasn't far to assume he came from a very sheltered community. She imagined it could be a really traditional family, or an old, foreign royalty with strong roots to tradition. "Well I like it. He sounds like a classy gentleman."

"Or a charismatic psychopath." Blake pressed his lips thin, unimpressed. "I never understand you girls. I'm coming with you. Just to be safe."

The brunette rolled her eyes with a groan. "Stop being so paranoid. Don't you think he's had plenty of chances to act if he wanted to hurt me? I'll be fine. There's cameras everywhere, I'll be okay."

The detective narrowed his eyes critically. "It's not you I'm worried about. It's the thought of leaving the poor guy with you."

"Hey!"

Despite the burn in her face at the jab, Tatiana was relieved by his teasing. She didn't like the idea that she had to choose between her friend and her saviour. She looked up to see Gabriel sauntering towards them.

"How big is that guy anyway?" Blake muttered. "He's built like a tank."

She ignored his grumbling, smiling happily when Gabriel came within range. She stepped into the elevator before Blake followed suit. The older man gave the metal box a cursory look before joining them inside the carriage. She pressed the floor button and watched the steel doors close with a soft hiss before they began to move.

"Sorry about all that. I didn't expect it would be such a pain to get some medical treatment." Tatiana turned to look at her two companions. She didn't put much thought into it before but Gabriel really was a giant of a man. Judging by the width of his broad shoulders, he was built wider too. Blake was amongst the tallest people she knew and he used his size to his advantage in his line of work. Having Gabriel easily towered over him by a few solid inches understandably knocked him off one of his perks. That height difference looked even more striking when they stood next to each other inside the elevator.

"Yeah, you two are lucky I'm assigned here," Blake grumbled although there was no heat in his tone. As if remembering something, he took out his phone to type a quick message and sent it before Tatiana could see what he wrote. "Things are a bit messy now but don't worry, it will settle in a few days."

"This ruckus is rather unusual," Gabriel drawled, low and contemplative, "Are you expecting unsavoury company?"

Blake shook his head. "It's just a basic security protocol. The heat is on because a building nearby caught fire."

Gabriel hummed in response but chose not to comment further, letting the rest of the ride go in silence. It only lasted for a few seconds before the quiet trill of a buzz broke the silence.

Blake swiftly produced the vibrating device from his pocket. "Ah, crap."

"Work?" Tatiana guessed.

"Yeah. They need me downstairs. Guess I have to head back down." The detective pocketed the phone with a frown as they reached the fifth floor with a soft chime. When the metal doors slid open, he ushered Tatiana and Gabriel out of the elevator. "I already cleared you two so you shouldn't have any problem passing through. Steer clear of trouble, okay?"

The brunette huffed at the warning and answered with a taunting smirk, "Trouble should steer clear of me."

Blake scrunched up his nose at her response. The elevator doors were closing when he slapped his hand over to stop it. Tatiana noted the worry in his eyes before he looked up at the taller man with a sombre expression. "Sorry about before. I was terribly out of line. You saved Tatiana, I shouldn't be too harsh on you."

Gabriel's eyebrows rose slightly by the unexpected apology. "It's of no consequence. Your concern is within reason."

Tatiana felt the coil of tension in her belly unwound into a gentle warmth; she was glad that the men cleared the air between them. "Be careful, Blake." Blake smiled thinly at her before releasing the door and letting them slide close. She watched the blue glow of numbers above the elevator descend for a few seconds before Gabriel's low, raspy voice broke her musing.

"Your friend worries for you. He believes you invite danger." Gabriel looked at her; his eyes were thankfully not as intense as they were before. His lips quirked up slightly but there was no mirth to it. "He has every right to be."

The fine hairs behind her neck stood up at the implication. For a split second, Tatiana felt her nerves wobble at her own conviction. It didn't help that the hall was void of people and hidden from view. "Well, you saved me. What kind of man who goes out of his way to save a stranger at the expense of his own safety?" she asked with a nervous laugh, bracing herself to look at her tall companion to find that Gabriel was watching her. Just being in his presence made her feel so small. "A really good one."

Gabriel grunted slightly in response, tearing his eyes away from her with a scowl. "You hardly know what you speak of, much less the kind of person I am," he said with a frown that looked almost pained. "Naivete is a harmful trait. It would do you good to adopt your friend's caution."

"What do you mean?" The brunette turned her body to face him so she could see his face more clearly. "Are you saying that I'm in dangerous company?"

His eyes darkened. "Everyone is dangerous when you allow them to be. You shouldn't be hasty to exclude me out of the pool." The darkness lifted and his eyes were clear again. "But you may rest easy. I only resort to harm on those who aggravate me."

Somehow the blasé way he said it while maintaining a deep scowl was so funny that Tatiana couldn't help but laugh. Gabriel gave her a look like she had lost her marbles. She waved her uninjured hand apologetically. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude." She rubbed her eyes and smiled, feeling the oppressive weight lift from her shoulders. "It's been a long day."

"I'm inclined to agree," he nodded at her bruises, likely noticing the way she limited the arm movement.

Tatiana flushed and tried her best to hide the arm. Honestly, it didn't hurt as much now as it did before. The discolouration made her self-conscious though. "It's not as bad as it looks. I'm more worried about you," she said, shooting a surreptitious glance at the other's covered arm. There was no way anyone could still be standing after taking such a brutal beating, much less left without a broken bone or two. Her sister told her once that people could be numb to pain while they were in the heat of the moment, which could result in more serious injuries and complications if not addressed appropriately. From the way he fought, Tatiana could only guess the man at least had a martial arts background. _Ex-cop? Army vet? Hired guard? Secret agent? Martial arts instruct—_

"...he way."

Her train of thought stuttered when she realised he was talking. "...Huh?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her. "I believe we were seeing your sister."

"Right...yes. I mean—right this way." Tatiana ducked her head, feeling her cheeks steadily warming. He hadn't caught her staring, _had he_? If she was alone she would have made a beeline towards the bathroom to sort herself out but she could feel his unrelenting gaze behind her neck like a hot brand. There weren't as many officers on the fifth floor and thankfully no medical personnel in sight. If they saw her, her sister would never let her live it down.

Just as Blake had promised, the patrolling officers let them through, although she could tell their eyes were locked on their every move. They were especially more skittish around Gabriel as he easily towered over them, invoking their sense of awe and caution. Gabriel was silent along the journey, observing his surroundings with calm interest. She kept the brisk pace until they reached the Specialist Department. The three police officers guarding the entrance straightened up when the two approached, most likely wary of Gabriel's imposing presence. She was relieved they parted to let them through the door without a fuss.

Tatiana felt herself unwind once she was inside a familiar environment.. She turned to check on Gabriel to ensure that he was still with her. "My sister's office is right here." Her heels clicked dully on the grey linoleum as she walked over her sister's office. Being the specialists in their field, the doctors all had their own private office cubicle. Each was segregated by thick, half-wood-half-frosted glass walls, so it was easy to see who was still in at the hour. Only five cubicles still had their lights on. Reaching a familiar frosted glass door, Tatiana took a deep, calming breath and carefully pushed the metal door handle.

"Bea?"

* * *

The facility wasn't as big as Dracul thought it would be, but the smaller size also meant it was easier to secure. Everywhere he looked, he could see three to five men stationed in every section of the building, with an average of four men constantly roaming the hallways of each floor. The level of security was a little excessive for a supposed cautionary measure. Dracul deliberately walked slowly to observe the patrolling security. When they walked through the hallway to the elevators, he saw a map of the building on display. Leaving the two to bicker amongst themselves, he pored over the building's layout.

_The blood bank is on the third floor._

From what he could see from the lobby, the security was the tightest on said floor. Only the blood bank and medical supplies were on that floor, thus the reason for the heightened security on the floor was highly suspicious. Dracul glanced over the two as his heightened hearing caught on their conversation about Bioquimek's reputation and the man's absolute distress over his presence. He was surprised he managed to bear through their company this long. He thought of slipping behind them when they least expected it but the one called Blake seemed to be watching him like a hawk.

Perhaps he could play along for a while longer and scout the situation more closely. Having locals who can vouch for his presence would allow him to move freely rather than trying to sneak his way around and risk raising the alarm.

When they reached the higher floor, the vampire lord could see the guards were mostly crowded around hallway entrances and exit stairs. A strategic choice, if they were expecting intruders. "We're here. This is my sister's office." He sauntered over as the brunette carefully pushed the door a crack. "Bea?" The door flew open before she could fully complete her step, revealing a slim, tall blonde already waiting behind the door.

Dracul stopped in his tracks, feeling a flash of despair flared inside him. That _face_. He had never forgotten that face. For a moment he felt like looking through a window into a different lifetime.

"Yana!" The blond rushed to pull the brunette into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here," she breathed out, pulling away to give the brunette a quick look over. "Blake told me that you're hurt."

"Your boyfriend is overselling it. It's not that bad really. It's just really sore," she said, brushing her fingers over the tender flesh. "Anyway, I brought along someone special." She turned around to wave the vampire lord closer. "Bea, meet Gabriel. If it wasn't for him, I'd be in even bigger trouble. Gabriel, this is my sister, Beatrice," the brunette said proudly in introduction.

 _Claudia_.

Dracul never thought he would say that name again, not even in his deepest of thoughts. The name brought forth centuries-old memories— _of guilt and despair_ —that he had buried ever since he became a vampire _._ She looked young—just the way he remembered her, etched by her early death—but she still maintained an air of wisdom that was uncommon for her age, much like the wise soul who once wore the same face. Her hair was the colour of wheat, cut short into a modern, sleek shape where the tips barely reached the shoulders of her soft, blue blouse. Her clothes were wrinkled and exhaustion weighed on her slim shoulders, but that didn't dampen the brightness in her blue eyes.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Dracul twitched when he realised she was standing in front of him. She smelled of dewdrops and rivers; a pleasant yet strange mix of scents for a place so devoid of nature. Even her _voice_ —no longer echoing through his mind—sounded the same. He sharply looked away from her gaze; he couldn't bear to see how genuinely concerned she looked. He didn't deserve her kindness then, he certainly didn't now. "I am no 'sir'. Just 'Gabriel' will suffice."

Beatrice smiled and extended her hand to him. "Nice to meet you, Gabriel. Thank you for helping my sister."

 _Sister._ Dracul looked at Tatiana, noting the resemblance between the two women. _She's no longer alone._ "It was the right thing to do," he responded gruffly. The vampire lord didn't expect to have such a reaction at seeing a familiar face on a stranger. After some hesitation, he gently squeezed her offered hand and politely inclined his head, "It's my privilege to meet your acquaintance...Beatrice."

"He got beat up real bad for it too," Tatiana piped in helpfully while swinging her arms in a theatrical reminisce. "Can you believe it? Four against one _and_ they used batons!"

"Four on one? What, were they gang bangers?" Beatrice winced at the imagery as she went over the various tinctures in her medicine cabinet. Pulling out a few small jars of ointment, she turned to her sister. "Sit down so I can check on that arm."

Tatiana sniffed but didn't object, plopping herself ungracefully into one of the stools by the desk as she continued her report, "Worse. Bernhard's paid goons."

Beatrice froze and let out a soft oath under her breath. "Of all people..." She turned to regard the vampire lord more closely that Dracul could sense her apology. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

The vampire shrugged nonchalantly. "I do not fear them. Whatever repute they have holds no power over me."

"As it should be. People are afraid of them because they have money," Tatiana said in agreement. "If more people are like Gabriel, maybe they'll think twice about being absolute assholes."

Beatrice turned to give the brunette a stink eye. "Not everyone is able to risk their livelihood without care like you, Yana." The blonde sighed in resignation, "You and Blake are magnets for trouble."

"They started it!" the brunette retaliated in defense.

"They always do," she agreed, setting the jars on her desk and carefully checking on the brunette's bruised arm. The blonde frowned at the darkening handprint, "Tell me they got it worse."

"Oh, they got it far worse." Dracul raised his eyebrow slightly at the cheeky smile Tatiana threw his way at the remark.

Beatrice hummed in approval, "Good. Teaches them a thing or two about laying a finger on my sister." After a few minutes, she was finally satisfied with her observation. "Deep bruising around the wrist but thankfully nothing too severe that can hinder joint movement. Put a cold compress on it and rest the arm, it won't hurt as much in a few days," she concluded, smearing a mint-smelling salve over the area before fetching a small pack of clear blue gel from inside one of her drawers and applying it to the area. "Keep that on." Tatiana made a happy, pleased sound after her arm was treated, vacating her seat to find the small divan by the window more appealing to lounge on. Beatrice shook her head gently watching her then turned towards the Dragon. "Your turn."

Dracul blinked, surprised by her attention. "I do not require treatment."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. " _Sure you don't_. Look, I'm a physician, I've had too many patients who said they're fine when they really aren't. You took a beating for my sister, the least I can do is to make sure you're not suffering anything life-threatening."

The vampire lord gave her a disbelieving look. "If I am, I won't be standing here."

"Since you're here, you might as well sit down," the blonde insisted stubbornly, patting on the vacant stool in front of her. "Don't worry, Gabriel. Your secret's safe with me," she promised with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

If only she had any idea about the secrets he kept.

"You might as well do as she says or she won't let you get out of here," Tatiana joined in, giving him a look of learnt experience.

Dracul looked between the two women, silently weighing his options. He briefly cast his eyes over the window, making sure the deep darkness still blanketed the city. It couldn't have only been a few hours since his arrival and he had already learnt more than he originally expected to. He highly doubted anyone could stop him if he was adamant to leave but a tiny voice inside him told him to stay. The building fire had thrown Bioquimek into public attention and he strongly believed their demonic rank would soon suspect another inhuman force was meddling in their affairs. Being close business partners, it wouldn't be so implausible to assume Bernhard would eventually be roped into joining their hunt.

Dracul considered what he learnt of the notorious family. The Bernhards seemed to foster a reputation of the over-privileged and wasn't the least apologetic about it. If they caught a whiff of his presence tonight, everyone he had met with could be compromised. Meeting Beatrice was too convenient to be coincidental. She was a ghost from his past, an innocent face to one of his many sins. The Bernhards couldn't touch him but she and those around her weren't as invincible. Dracul had no love for politics nor any desire to be involved in mankind's squabble for power, but leaving them to deal with the aftermath of his actions didn't sit right with him. He needed to make sure she wouldn't pay the consequences of his ignorance. _Again_.

With that in mind, Dracul shrugged his coat off, pretending not to see the pleased look on Beatrice's face as he threw the heavy leather over a nearby chair. He was halfway through unbuttoning his sleeve when the blonde stopped him. "It's better that you take your shirt off." She shrugged innocently at his stare. "Like I said, I'm a physician. And from my experience, patients love to downplay their injuries."

The vampire lord couldn't help but be impressed by her boldness. "Are you always so trusting?" he asked as a tiny smile pulled at his lips.

Beatrice grinned, bright and confident. "I've yet to meet an honest patient."

"Understandable." Dracul nodded, switching to tug his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning it. Peeling the shirt off his shoulders, he threw the soft material to join his coat. "Will this suffice?" he asked, suddenly hoping he wouldn't need to have his pants join the pile. While the vampire lord had long lost his shame over his nudity, he didn't revel in the idea of exposing himself in front of young women. He would never hear the end of it if Alucard found out. Hearing no input, he turned around to find Beatrice and Tatiana were gawking at him in disbelief.

"Wow...those men had no chance. You're an absolute unit," Tatiana mumbled dreamily as she looked him over.

Beatrice cleared her throat loudly while shooting her sister a pointed look before she answered him, "Yes. Now, if you would just sit down."

Dracul obligingly took a seat on the designated stool, allowing the blonde to begin checking his arms and shoulders for signs of trauma. The beating he received earlier was miserably paltry compared to the usual damage he often took but he didn't have the heart to stop her. The vampire lord watched her initial hesitance melted into a look of pure concentration as she meticulously felt and prodded at every muscle and joint along his arms, keeping her touches gentle as if she was afraid to hurt him. He had to admit it was somewhat endearing.

"Hmm..." The blonde made a soft, confused noise before turning to her sister. "You said he took a beating?"

Tatiana returned her look, confused by the question. "Yeah? Why?"

"Are you sure? Because I don't see any injury," Beatrice said, stepping aside to show no mark on the vampire's pale skin.

"What?" The brunette openly stared, surprised at the lack of visible markings on the vampire lord's arm and shoulder. "How is that possible? I saw you took all those hard hits— _the whole street did_ —and you're not even bruised?"

Dracul raised his eyebrows at the two. "You sound disappointed."

"Hardly. Being a doctor, I learn to never take anything at face value. An injury doesn't necessarily need to be visible so a thorough check is always a good exercise of caution," was Beatrice's smooth response as she carefully felt along his bicep.

The Dragon snorted softly; the blonde was so alike Claudia in terms of personality it was almost uncanny. The wise and stubborn traits she exuded were tempered with kindness and curiosity. Her chosen profession might be amplifying it. There were moments in the past when his mind wandered what could have been for the last Argarthan if they hadn't crossed paths. Never once he thought their meeting played a vital part in his quest, that he had to take something so intrinsically hers after the knowledge she had given him. Even if Claudia allowed him to take the Dark Gauntlet, she would have never survived without the Dark Knight. In the end, none of them were given a choice in the matter. His damned crusade was paved on the sacrifices of the innocents. "You remind me of someone dear."

Beatrice arched a delicate eyebrow at his sudden statement, doing her best to glance discreetly at his hands. Dracul momentarily wondered if it was because she could sense the strong magic imbued into the gold band around his finger.

"In a good way, I hope?"

The vampire pursed his lips with a thoughtful hum. "You both share a strong inclination to help those in need. Kind, even to those undeserving." He moved his arm to flex the muscles under her fingers.

Beatrice blushed at the indirect compliment. "I'm a doctor, it's my job to care. Even if I'm not in this profession, kindness is a virtue; everyone deserves a helping hand once in a while. I'm sure your friend thought the same."

His acquaintance with Claudia was abrupt and fleeting, barely qualifying the closeness of being ‘friends', but her bravery and compassion were still fresh in his mind. The young mute girl he met that day could remain altruistic and carefree even when she had lost everyone she held dear. She had been enjoying a simple, peaceful life, until he came along. It was why her unnecessary death scarred him so deeply, that seeing Beatrice felt like he was looking through a reflection of his sins.

"She _did_ ," Dracul agreed, briefly lost in his memories. "But good is not always rewarded. Her innocent life was snuffed before its time," he added soon after, staring at the frosted glass wall as he felt her hands stilled.

The blonde grimaced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories," she apologised but Dracul just waved it off.

"You need not apologise. Memories—however painful—is a lesson for the future."

"If you don't mind us prying," Tatiana asked softly from her perch, respectful of the obviously sombre topic. "...What happened to her?"

Dracul clenched his fists until he could feel the bite of his blunt nails on the palm of his hands. "She passed young, alone and unmourned, believing what she did was for the good of all," he said bitterly, remembering all the lies they were fed into for a cause that brought nothing but despair. "For a world that never even knew she existed."

Beatrice was quiet for a while. " _You_ do," she pointed out gently, resting a delicate hand over his hard shoulder. The contrast of her soft palm against his taut skin made him loosen his muscles slightly. " _You_ know she existed. I don't know the specifics but she has you keeping her in your thoughts. Maybe to her, that's enough."

The vampire lord snorted at the concept. "Many would consider making my acquaintance to be nothing short of unlucky." He tilted his head at Tatiana. "The Bernhards could be targeting you after tonight's incident."

The brunette made a rather indelicate snort—eliciting a resigned sigh from her sister—and waved her hand nonchalantly. "I'm a nobody. Unless the video got out of hand, I don't think they'll do anything. They have a lot more to lose if something like that gets blown out of proportion."

"Blake's already working on de-escalating the issue anyway," Beatrice supplied, spreading her fingers over the base of his neck to apply firm, even pressure. "He has some pull in the media and the Bernhards aren't really the people's favourite. If they try anything funny, it'll be the front page of major tabloids in the city." She dug her thumb into several pressure points to feel the muscle tension while watching his shoulders for signs of discomfort. Seeing none, she did a few more cursory inspections over his back before pulling away, satisfied by her assessment. "You're slightly tense but I don't see any significant damage. You're actually in quite a great shape, Gabriel."

"So I've been told." Dracul stood up and rolled his shoulders, eliciting a series of delicious pops under the back of his neck, feeling the muscles loosen considerably. "I've troubled you long enough. I should take my leave," he said, reaching for his discarded garments.

"Already?" Tatiana asked, sitting up from her lounge. "You could stay for coffee," she suggested with a hopeful smile.

Dracul scrunched his nose remembering the last tea experience. "Regrettably, I must decline. My son is expecting me."

The brunette grinned and let out a triumphant, high-pitched squeal. "Aha! I knew it! All those nagging is SUCH a dad thing!"

The vampire lord looked at her in confusion, not understanding the connection. " _'_ _Nagging'_ ?"

Before the brunette could explain, a sudden knock on the door drew their attention to the door. The door swung open and Blake popped his head in. "Hey, are you girls ready to—" He stopped when he noticed Dracul was mid-slipping into his shirt. "Is everything okay?" he asked carefully, his whole body sang with caution as he assessed the older man critically. The Dragon met his gaze with a slightly raised eyebrow, daring the other man to address the tension. The women were blissfully oblivious of the silent exchange.

Beatrice walked up to him to give him a soft peck on the cheek. "Everything's fine, Blake. I'm just about done for the day and Gabriel's also leaving. Let me get my things so we can all leave together."

"D'aw..." Tatiana cooed, "You two are giving me diabetes."

The detective rolled his eyes, too used to her jabs. "And you're giving me an ulcer. Do you know how many strings I gotta pull to save your skin?" He held out a rolled up bundle of cloth towards her. "Here, I got you a jacket so you can cover up those bruises."

"Pshh, you're just doing it for my sister," the brunette said in mock hurt but still gratefully accepted the jacket. She held it up for inspection. "Isn't this Bea's?"

The doctor looked over from rummaging her cabinet. "Oh, hey! I've been wondering where that went."

"You left it in my apartment last weekend," Blake explained. "Figured now's the perfect time to return it." He shifted on his feet, looking at both Tatiana and the Dragon. "So, I contacted my ‘associates' to do some damage control and there are over twenty footages of that ‘incident' already online."

Tatiana cringed while she shrugged the jacket on. "That fast?"

"With everyone having smart devices nowadays, what did you expect?" The detective tutted and rested his hands on his hips. "Thankfully, most of them were too busy filming Jason so your face and Gabriel's face were conveniently obscured by the camera angle. The few that are more incriminating have been taken down, so as far as all things concerned, you two are in the clear."

The brunette let out a happy cheer. "Yes! See? Even the universe is on our side."

Dracul snorted inwardly. He'd sooner chalk it to humanity's lust for drama than give credit to the supernatural.

Blake sighed and shook his head. "You could at least be a bit more careful. You're lucky this time, there's no telling if you will be next," he said to the brunette before turning his attention towards the Dragon. "Where are you headed?"

"I have a destination," the vampire lord provided distractedly, realising he could no longer sense other movements on the floor. _Something is amiss_.

The vague answer made Blake frown a little but he was quick to mask his expression. "Are you going to be safe? The city isn't exactly friendly lately for someone who isn't familiar with the scene. Plus you picked a fight with the most influential family in this city, there's bound to be repercussions."

Dracul found himself to be surprisingly amused by the man's attempt to fish information out of him. A low laugh rumbled deep in his chest. "I welcome them. Those who are brave enough to threaten me harm will find themselves facing someone very different from their usual prey," he challenged, feeling the familiar excitement of his prey offering themselves to him.

The detective frowned, "Right, I'll pretend I didn't just hear that."

Blake and Tatiana didn't seem to appreciate his brazen outlook on the situation, though the brunette seemed to be more appalled by his lack of self-preservation than his admittance of inviting danger. "You shouldn't put yourself at risk! What would happen to your family if you got seriously hurt?" she chided, ignoring the look Blake gave her.

The thought of Alucard being worried about his well-being sounded absurd. He was an immortal with little weakness. He and Alucard had exchanged enough violent blows to know how indestructible they both were. The younger vampire was likely more concerned about the damage _his_ presence could cause to _everyone's_ well-being.

"My son can fend for himself," he said with full conviction but found himself pondering about it. Alucard's skill was without question. The younger vampire was ruthless in combat—that much was true—but he also had a glaringly fatal weakness that offset it. Dracul had seen how easily affected and stubborn his son was when it came to defending humanity. Alucard was normally a careful creature but the vampire lord often considered shadowing him just to ensure the younger vampire didn't do anything foolish. He huffed in slight annoyance at the irony of their mutual disposition. "He may be even more brazen than I am."

Blake made a face. "Huh. I saw the videos. I find it hard to believe anyone could be more reckless than you." He paused as if he thought of something. "Is he in the city? Will he be causing trouble?"

Dracul gave him a dismissive wave. "You've nothing to worry about. He's currently attending to other matters with his friends outside the city. Whatever he's doing will not impact your domain." He doubted Alucard cared to branch his interest out of the city before the threat within it was fully vanquished.

"Does he do it often?" Tatiana asked tentatively, seemingly coming to the same conclusion as the detective. "Getting into trouble, I mean."

The Dragon pursed his lips at recalling the many times he teetered on the edge by Alucard's daring stunts. Were he not an immortal, he would have probably suffered a stress-induced illness. "Too many times to possibly count. If he at least thought of how much I worry about him, I would have not minded as much."

Blake grimaced in sympathy, "He sounds like a handful."

Dracul blinked and found himself agreeing with the other man. Granted, they were both capable, independent warriors. Alucard was used to doing things his way for centuries, and had proven to be quite successful in his method that the Dragon wondered if he was in any place to judge. "He can be frustratingly trying at times."

The admittance seemed to break through Blake's reserved opinion of him strangely, and Dracul was both curious and wary of the unexpected shift.

"Man, they always are." The detective groaned and ran his fingers through his short, black hair, slumping wearily as he gave the vampire lord a strange look of understanding. "Take it from me. Three teen brothers. Keeping them in line is harder than wrangling a pack of wolves. Once they mix with the wrong crowd, they can be a cult-like menace."

Dracul's thoughts went straight to the band of misfits Alucard collected over the years and grimaced. "I'll heed your caution."

"Okay, I'm ready." Beatrice returned to join the group with her bag and jacket slung on each arm. She stopped to note the strange solidarity. "What did I miss?"

Blake gestured at Dracul. "We were just talking about his son."

Beatrice perked up with interest, turning to the vampire lord. "Oh, you mentioned you have a son. What is he like?"

Dracul sighed, weary and dejected, "He's a menace."

Confused, she looked at the other two for help but Blake and Tatiana only echoed his sigh. When no one seemed keen to elaborate on the topic, she gave up. "So, are we good to go?" She turned to Blake. "Are you staying late?"

Blake shook his head. "Nah, Bioquimek's security is taking over. They probably suspected the fire to be a company espionage-turn-arson so they're not thrilled about having us around while they transfer their confidential materials here. I heard even the doctors and lower admin staff are told to clear out until further notice."

"What?!" Beatrice bristled, indignant. "They didn't have the decency to send a memo in advance? I still have work to do, plus there are critical patients that require close supervision."

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I heard your hospital director is the one who offered," he hastily spilled, arms raised in a placating manner. "Anyway, I don't think they'll touch the critical wing. Bioquimek is only occupying the lab and the immediate storage area because they needed to store their sensitive materials." Blake scrunched his nose in distaste. "Hopefully they keep it localised. Those scientists are giving off creepy vibes. Things just feel really weird since they arrived."

Dracul paused to consider the information. Could he be so lucky that those ‘creepy' staff were demonic in nature? He could have very well flushed the main players into showing their hands. Suddenly he understood the reason for the tight security; they would be most vulnerable while they relocated. If he played his cards right, he could throw their operations into further disarray.

By the time they exited the office, it was apparent that the floor was nearly vacated. Dracul observed the guards ushering the last trickle of hospital staff out while a group of men in full hazard gear were pushing containers and boxes through the corridor. One of the containers was taller than it was wide; a fairly narrow rectangular box made of polished metal with wires and strange devices attached. None of the men lifted their faces when they crossed paths, which was a highly unusual behaviour. Bioquimek's records showed that they had done unsavoury dealings under innocent guises before so the way they seemed to sneak around made Dracul suspect the operation was less than legitimate. The vampire lord frowned when he could detect a familiar, foul smell from the metal container. He even heard a strong thrum of a heartbeat from it.

 _A demon._ Dracul could feel his claws itched to break into skin. _They're transporting demons._

"Gabriel?"

He tore his eyes from the departing group to see Tatiana, Beatrice, and Blake were waiting for him inside the elevator.

"Is something wrong?" Beatrice asked.

 _Humans are instinctively curious creatures._ He would risk alerting his current company if he showed keen interest over the group, and he certainly didn't want to involve the three into his private business. Loosening his posture, Dracul shook his head. "No." He cast one last look at where the group was headed before finally entering the elevator. He would have the opportunity to investigate on his own later.

Once the elevator started moving Blake turned towards the sisters. "It's getting late so I'll drive you two home. My car's in the basement." He turned to Dracul with a questioning look. "What about you? Do you need a lift?"

The vampire lord shook his head minutely. "I still have matters that need attending. I will exit the way I entered." The detective seemed to accept his refusal without much contest, perhaps relieved by his leave even. The elevator eventually reached the ground floor and Dracul stepped out once the door slid open.

"Wait!" Tatiana blurted out suddenly, slapping a hand over the elevator door to stop it from closing. She whipped a small, flat device from her purse and looked at him expectantly. "Can I have your number? Maybe I can show you around the city sometime." The vampire lord blinked at her strange request, turning to the other two for assistance. Beatrice had a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation on her face while Blake held a look of calm resignation.

"Regretfully, you can't. I own no such device."

Her smile deflated at his response. Beatrice reached into her purse and produced a small, grey card. "Here," she said, offering it to the vampire lord with a soft smile. "In case you need a friend."

Dracul hesitantly accepted the offer. "Thank you."

Beatrice beamed at him; her smile bright despite her exhaustion. "Safe journey, Gabriel."

The elevator door had long closed before Dracul finally moved from his rooted spot in the empty corridor, hoping the strange heaviness in his heart would pass.

* * *

A young woman dressed sharply in dark blazer walked down a brightly illuminated corridor. The sharp, hurried clicks of her heels prompted a few head turns but otherwise nobody paid her any mind. She clutched a slim tablet against her chest hard enough her knuckles turned white as she approached a pair of Golgoth guards by the doorway at the end of the hall. Unlike their lesser counterparts, these large, gargantuan creatures were almost as tall as the double doors they were guarding. They wore sleek, black armours—an improved design to grant them better mobility—which suited the corporate scene better. She ignored them, taking a moment to recollect herself, brushing any stray brown hair from her face and straightening her blazer. Once satisfied, she pushed through the door, maintaining her calm mask even as the back of her neck burned from the heaviness of their stare.

Stepping through the door, the brunette found herself inside a vast meeting room. A large, fibreglass table sat in the middle of the room. Out of the twenty seats available, only three were occupied.

Two men—one slightly older than the other—sat on one end of the table. Clad in expensively tailored, dark suits, they carried a certain air of arrogance—the older more than the younger—which spoke loudly of their social status. From their familiar facial features, it was safe to assume they shared a familial relation. Both of them looked less than happy about being inside the room; their postures sang of tension and their eyes were glaring warily at the other man sitting at the opposite end of the table.

"Ah, Anna!" The other man smiled brightly at her, drawing everyone's attention to her entrance. Despite being dressed in an expensive, crisp white suit that was probably worth half her yearly salary, he sat almost sprawled in his chair, looking absolutely relaxed and comfortable in his position. It was as if he was oblivious to the animosity exuding from the other two men. "Gentlemen, Miss Anna Grey, my aide," he introduced her to the men, "See? Anyone is free to come and leave. No one is holding you here against your will."

"Hah, like we'd believe you," the older man scoffed, glaring at Anna and then the door. "Those _creatures_ aren't to be trusted."

They certainly had a disagreement about the Golgoth guards before she came in. She remembered Bioquemek recruited the giants as special guards when they started to develop the serum. The decision to hire them was made specifically by the president herself and she heard rumours that those who complained about it were either transferred to another office or mysteriously disappeared. Their presence was a little unsettling and took some time to get used to but she found that if she stayed out of the way, she generally never saw them. Not wanting things to drag on or being dragged into the conflict, she gave a slight bow to the two men before making a beeline towards the man sitting alone.

"Sir, I brought the latest report as you asked." She handed him the tablet and stood primly beside his chair. "It was as you suspected, someone was accessing the records before the fire broke out."

"Thank you, Anna." The man bobbed his head. "Did we manage to salvage anything from the fire?"

She grimaced slightly as she leaned in to tap on the tablet screen, bringing up a series of photos showing the aftermath. "No, the whole section was reduced to ashes."

"In just seven minutes?" he mused out loud, swiping through the photos with growing curiousity before looking up at the pair across the table. "This seems like a highly destructive weapon. I wasn't aware that Bernhard Ltd. developed such an arsenal."

"We didn't." The older man said flatly, his mouth curled downwards in disdain. "This meeting is a waste of time. If you asked us to come here just to throw baseless accusations, you could just talk to my secretary."

"I'm sure Miss Harringer is a fine aide." The man smiled serenely despite the other man's growing agitation. "But I'm not in the market for tabloid gossip that your family is so fond of, Roger."

Roger slammed his palms on the table. "It's President Bernhard to you, you little pri—" Before he could say more, the younger man beside him placed a placating hand over his arm.

"Father, let me handle this." The man turned to shoot the other man with a cool look. There was a calculated intelligence in his eyes that Anna attributed to being cunning. "Mr. Olsen, with all due respect; Bernhard Ltd. and Bioquimek Corp. have been business partners for the last ten years. We highly value our partnership and we take the utmost care to maintain a good business relationship with your company. There's no reason for us to jeopardise that."

"That's assuming you still consider our partnership to be symbiotic," the other man retorted, handing the tablet back to his aide. "We all know the backlash Bioquimek got from what happened in Castlevania City and your dad wants to cut us off since, like we're gangrene." His lips curled into a grin, cold and dangerous. "And please, William, I prefer Horace."

William frowned slightly at the blunt accusation but maintained his composure. "I'm aware Bioquimek has been experiencing difficulties lately but I assure you that we have no intention of terminating our partnership." He glanced briefly at the door. "Although I can see that you don't share our confidence."

"Oh, pay them no mind." Horace waved at the door lazily. "They're just here to make sure we're not interrupted. One can never be too careful after the attack we just experienced."

"Where's your president?" the older Bernhard suddenly asked with a haughty sneer. "She should be the one talking to us in this room, not send a smarmy brat like you to do her job. Guess she's not so high and mighty now that Bioquimek is losing shares," he said, smirking in triumph when Horace's smile vanished at the accusation.

William sighed in exasperation. "Father—"

"It's no wonder the Bernhard family is so popular with the presses," Horace cut in with an exaggerated sigh. "You simply can't keep your mouth shut and run around with your pasty ass out in the open, can you Roger?"

Roger gaped at the direct insult, becoming even more angry when Anna looked away to smother a smile. "How dare you—"

William sprang up to grab him. "Father!"

"To answer your question, Madam Volkova is indisposed until further notice," Horace announced into the room, the humour and pleasantry in his voice were gone. He watched the two father and son with dispassionate eyes, hardly impressed by the threat of violence from Bernhard Sr. "As the CEO hand-picked personally by Madam President, I'm responsible for ensuring every aspect of the company's administration performs as they should—our companys' relations included. I usually do business with Mr. Meslamstea but I called you here as a sign of respect. So please, President Bernhard, _sit down_."

Roger opened his mouth to say something but William held him back. He pretended not to see how the younger Bernhard made secret hints at the door. Once the Bernhards were reseated he turned to nod at his aide, "Anna, if you please?" The large monitor on the side wall came to life and showed a blurry still of security footage.

"What am I looking at?" Roger asked, distracted from his anger by the blurry shapes on the screen.

Anna started to explain, "This is the clearest image we obtained from our security network before the fire broke out. An unknown man was captured in the corridor of a very secured wing. He went past every security check. No one knows how he got inside. Minutes later that part of the building exploded."

"The building exploded," William repeated, looking confused. "A bomb attack? So the perpetrator died?"

"What does that have to do with us?" the older Bernhard asked sourly, clearly getting angry again.

Anna tapped on her tablet, swapping the picture on the screen with a short video clip. It was set outside, and from that angle, it was from one of the public closed circuit cameras dotted all over the city streets. "This was taken a few blocks downtown. Jason Bernhard was recorded accosting a group of young women near the Sixth Avenue crossing."

"That damn brat keeps stirring up trouble for me!" Roger exploded, turning to his son with his eyes blazing. "Cut off your brother's funds. That useless idiot won't be spending my money while he ruins me."

"Yes, Father." William sighed wearily, leaning back into his seat and took off his glasses to pinch on the bridge of his nose. Anna could only imagine how often the younger Bernhard had to temper his father's wrath in place of another family member. Jason was the more infamous one; not a month went by without the youngest heir being in the limelight for all the wrong reasons. William returned his attention to Horace and her. "Please continue."

"This video isn't clear enough to make a definite comparison and other versions were swiftly taken down within hours of being online, but the man standing between Jason and the women bore a similar build and appearance to the intruder," Anna pointed out, pausing the video and calling up the security still on the side, isolating several distinct points on both media in comparison.

William shook his head in disbelief. "That's a bit of a stretch. They can't be the same person. No one survives an explosion and turns up blocks away unscathed."

"Maybe," Horace agreed, tilting his head with a curious hum. "But we're hardly ones with privileges to deny that the ‘otherworldly' is a myth anymore. I'm sure being Bernhards, you know this better than anyone. Why else, after centuries of trials, you only managed to erect one factory in Castlevania City, and that was only with Mr. Meslamstea's involvement?" He smirked when the Bernhard tensed. Leaning left to rest against the armrest, he settled more comfortably in his chair, hooking his feet over a nearby empty chair. "In any case, isn't it strange that both of us experience strange...‘incidents' on the same night?" He drummed the tips of his fingers on the table while observing the men's faces. "As I understand, your son Jason never goes anywhere without his security detail. No one sane would be stupid enough to go against a Bernhard in this city." He motioned at the screen when the video was left to play, "Yet, looking at the footage, that man showed no hesitation, not even with four trained bodyguards on him."

"I'll find him," Roger snarled heatedly. "Once I do, he'll regret what he did. He'll learn to fear the name Bernhard for the rest of his life."

"Brilliant." Horace straightened up, smiling wide and gleeful as if he just got the reaction he wanted. "I had my doubts but I'm glad we're on the same page. Find out who's trying to cause trouble and I'll make sure our business continues as painlessly as possible." He turned to Anna. "Inform the front desk that our guests are ready to leave."

"Yes, sir." She sent a quick message via her tablet before turning to the Bernhards. "Our driver will be waiting at the front entrance."

Roger Bernhard stood up stiffly, shooting Horace a withering glare before marching towards the door as if he couldn't wait to put as much distance between him and the other man. William at least took the time to politely nod at Horace and Anna before following his father out of the room. Once the Bernhards had left, Horace leaned back into his seat with a soft snicker. "Founding families... They think the world still cares about nobles and royalties. They're like spoilt toddlers throwing temper tantrums over others playing with their sand castles." He looked at his aide with a raised brow. "I assume you looked into their operations before you came here?"

"I did," Anna nodded in assent, allowing herself to relax now that their guests were gone. "They have no hand in the attack."

"Not directly, at least," Horace maintained, still holding onto his suspicion. One wouldn't be in his position without a healthy dose of skepticism. "How's the relocation coming along?"

"The materials are being transferred under strict observation to the Angel Crest Medical Centre as planned. The director is very interested in keeping everything discreet as long as we agree to fund a few advanced medical equipment. How do you wish to respond, sir? We have big investors in Angel Crest. I can arrange with them to have the director removed from his position."

Horace snorted and shook his head. "Replacing the director will only attract more attention. We have the money to buy his silence. Their newest machines are at least a decade old, give him what he wants."

"Understood." Anna nodded and made a note of it in her tablet. A loud buzz rang from her pocket and she quickly tapped on the earpiece she wore in her left ear. "Yes, Grey here." Her eyes widened as colour drained from her face. " _What?_ "

Curious, he pursed his lips suspiciously at her stricken face. "Complications?"

She looked at him. "It was from Angel Crest. They just finished the transfer but something went wrong. The specimen...it died."

Horace blinked. "Specimens die all the time. Just tell them to find more."

Anna shook her head, the tightness in her throat made her voice a little high, "They've never exploded out of nowhere before."

"Could be the result of the many trials it was subjected to," Horace pointed out, unconcerned by the development. "Any civilian witness?"

"No, we evacuated the resident staff to keep everything discreet," she said, still fairly shaken by the news. "They're looking into the matter right now."

"How far along are we on the research before the fire? Did they manage to find what caused the mutation?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"No one saw Dr. Hartzen since the fire so it's highly possible he was inside the room when the incident happened." Anna unconsciously clutched on her tablet; she always knew how dangerous their work could be but having it realised in such an unexpected, traumatic event still made her feel a little perturbed. "From his research notes in the cloud, he determined the mutagen is no longer only airborne. Contact with bodily fluid from the carriers can also spread the infection."

"Spreading through physical contact," Horace mused, drumming his fingers over the table. "Does the antidote still work?"

Anna shook her head grimly. "The antidote we have at the moment works on the original strain if administered within the first hour of infection. On this mutated strain, it only has sixty percent efficiency provided it's administered within the first ten minutes. We lost a number of specialised equipment in the fire so the R&D will need time to replace them. Barring any more incidents, we'll have everything set up in less than a week, so we should still be on schedule with the tests."

"Good. In the meantime, maintain our normal operations. Get our best team to continue Hartzen's research. Spare no expense, I want this virus under control." He swivelled his chair to look at the footage still on the large screen. "You can't find any other angle of this scene?"

Anna looked at the screen where the thirty seconds clip was still on display, paused at the only time their suspect's profile wasn't secured by the crowd. "Every other video except that one was taken down barely twenty minutes after it went live. Our tech suspects that someone was pulling some strings and issued a gag order on every private footage. The only ones that survived were this and a CCTV from a nearby bank that captured the crowd more than the incident." She looked at him. "Would you like me to dig deeper?"

"No, it's fine." Horace shook his head, linking his fingers over the table. "If Bernhard's suppressing it, we'll just be wasting our time. They're more interested in finding the man anyway, so let them handle it." He waved a hand at the screen slightly, motioning for her to let the footage resume playing. "Hmm...interesting the way he moves. It's not military...no, this is more like..." He let out a small sound of surprise. "Hm, this is truly bizarre."

"Sir?" Anna asked quietly, alternating between the screen and her boss. She didn't think he heard her when the silence stretched for a full minute so she jumped when he suddenly spoke.

"How is our dear friend in Castlevania City?"

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Castlevania City is a grave. With the city cut off and the mass of infected roaming the empty streets, it's hard to imagine anything living in it. The surveillance drones we sent over the last two weeks caught nothing but sporadic horde activities in the city's underbelly. I doubt he's still alive."

Horace scoffed. "Oh, I doubt he's that easy to kill. That man's a fighter."

Still wholly unconvinced, she nodded regardless. "I'll set out to establish contact."

"Thank you, Anna."

He watched her leave the room before returning to look at the screen, where the footage was playing on loop. It was certainly suspicious that someone was suppressing the incident. If it wasn't the Bernhards then they certainly had another party to worry about; one with something or someone to protect, and a strong enough pull on the media to do so. He wasn't worried however, information was a lucrative business and he knew sooner or later someone would be interested in selling. They just needed to wait.

"You, my mysterious friend, caused quite the stir." Horace drank in every detail of the man's movements, noting how distinctly world's apart his combat skill was compared to Bernhard's paid goons. Not even a veteran military personnel moved quite as masterful. "I can only imagine what the Bernhards plan to do with you."

He leaned back once his eyes started to water, broadening his sight to study the crowd. A petite young woman stood out amongst the gathering crowd. She appeared upset, cradling her arm against her chest while she stood behind the mysterious man, using him as a shield. Horace found himself smiling at the find. He had a strong feeling the young woman was involved somehow.

"Who might you be, I wonder?"

* * *

_*chapter art*_

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